#and I know nobody will do anything for me

[esote-rika]

to talk is to bare | Spencer Reid

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Category: hurt/comfort, fluff Summary: three times you've never felt enough for Spencer Reid—and the three times he rectified it immediately Content: insecure reader, written with early s2 Spencer in mind (glasses!Spencer rawr), reader wears makeup, implied bad relationships in the past, Spencer is just a sweetheart Word count: 2.4k A/N: entry for #lovers1kevent (congrats @mggslover muah) - the lyric prompt for this is “And I knew how you took your coffee and your favorite songs by heart, I read all of your (self help) books so you'd think that I was smart” from enough for you by Olivia Rodrigo. This was supposed to just be pure angst but apparently, I can't write this man as anything other than the perfect boyfriend.

“Well, actually, Dostoevsky intended the book to be a critique on certain schools of thoughts and ideologies, namely...”

You stare at your boyfriend, nodding along as he explains the intricacies and historical context of Notes from the Underground to you. His smile is kind and excited when he stops, looking at you expectantly.

“Right.” the smile on your face isn't forced, per se, but neither does it reach your eyes. How many times has it happened this month? It isn’t that you’re keeping count of all the times he’s corrected you—truthfully, you can’t, because you’ve lost count. And that’s the crux of the issue, isn’t it? The fact that you can’t even keep track of his corrections anymore, because he does it all the time. 

You remind yourself he's not doing this to deliberately make you feel stupid, your memory immediately calling forth all the times you've seen him correct other people — his teammates, the cashier at your favorite bookstore, a random person in the park. It's never pointed, nor is the act laced with anything but genuine, loving desire to share his knowledge. He's not like the men you've had to deal with in the past, the ones who jump at every opportunity to show off that they know more than you, that they're correct and you're wrong.

But this is Spencer. Sweet, wholly inexperienced, awkward. Half the time, he doesn't know how he comes across, and you've been dating him long enough to understand that. 

No, his corrections aren’t the crux of the issue. In fact, it isn’t even him. It’s you, and all the treacherous thoughts running through your mind. This damn book you’d read because you saw a dog eared copy in his satchel one day, pushing through pages upon pages of dense material just to catch up and relate with him, only to still come up short and have yourself be corrected.

The sting is still there, lingering and acrid in the back of your tongue. You cannot pinpoint it yet, this But it's Spencer Reid, so you grit your teeth and remind yourself not to take it personally. The words slip out easily. You could almost believe they aren’t lies. “Thank you for letting me know.”

The beam on his face is a reminder that not everyone is as patient, that he's come to expect looks that range from baffled to downright annoyed. Nobody else allows him free reign to talk like this, long winded rambles that get nipped at the bud with a sharp Reid. He smiles, beams at you, and this time the smile on your lips finally reaches your eyes.

“So what did I get wrong?”

“You weren’t wrong,” he’s pulling you in as he answers, lips finding the underside of your jaw and the bitterness dissipates, sweetens into something that makes your toes curl, “Just a little inaccurate.”

Your body melts into him easily. “You don't have to sugarcoat with me.”

“I'm not, it's literature. You can interpret it however you want, I just thought knowing the rest of the context would help you with your opinion.” he's kissing down your neck, breaths ghosting over your skin as he continues to talk, and you sink into his arms, forgetting why you were even feeling annoyed in the first place.

You’re not sure if you like the color you’ve put to make your cheeks flush. It's always been a point of contention in the past, your exes saying you don't put enough effort in, so this time with Spencer, you try. Even though you're not the best at it, even though you feel a little foolish because it seems a little too bright despite all of your hurried attempts to blend it a little more. But it’s too late to change now. You don’t want to go through the whole deal of reapplying your makeup because that would mean running late, so you ignore it and head to the cafe quickly. 

Spencer isn't there yet. You order your drinks, his black and into which you dump an exorbitant amount of sugar. Memorization is his thing, but you've come to learn a thing or two about him in the time you two are dating.

He's a few minutes late, and when he arrives, Spencer’s eyes lock on you. Or, more specifically, your cheeks.

“That bad?” you tease, standing from your seat and leaning over for a kiss. 

“You don’t have the coloring for that shade of red.”

Your brow knits as you pull away. Attempting to hide the flood of insecurity that swept through your chest, you let out a chuckle. Soft, shaky, and accompanied with a confused, “What?”

“It makes your cheeks look a little inflamed.”

“Oh.” 

Regret fills your chest, settling in your lungs until it’s difficult to breathe. You should have trusted your instincts and scrubbed the makeup off. Shouldn’t have tried something new on the one day the two of you can go out. He’s probably embarrassed by you. How silly, being a full grown woman wearing makeup bordering on clownish. 

He must have caught the hurt in your voice, the way your body deflates because he’s quick to remedy. “Hey, what’s that look for?”

It should embarrass you, the speed at which he picks up on your emotions. But he’s a profiler after all, he’s specifically trained for this, but sometimes you wish he doesn’t use it against you. Gentle hands cup your face. Cold hands, perpetually so until you’ve started keeping them between yours. They tilt your head up. 

“Talk to me.” 

“It’s stupid.”

“Nothing you say is ever stupid.”

You smile, “No, I think we both know that’s a lie.”

He relents. He knows you’re right; there are moments where you don’t make sense. “Not stupid, just…” his eyes roam your face while he searches for the word to use as compromise, as though he’ll find it tucked somewhere in your pretty features, “Lapses in discernment.”

You roll your eyes at his fancy vernacular, the attempt to soothe his mistake. “I think I prefer the layman’s term.” 

Spencer laughs sheepishly, then presses his lips to your forehead, “I’m never using that to describe you.” he murmurs against your skin, and then, “I'm sorry.”

Antarctica could melt from the warmth in your chest.  “You don't even know what you're apologizing for.”

“I upset you. That's reason enough.”

You sigh, pulling him to join you on the plush booth seat you'd managed to secure for your date. “Well, there's nothing to forgive.”

He accepts the coffee you hand him, corners of his mouth curved in a gentle smile. He sips, and you stew in silence, knowing that you shouldn't be leaving him guessing like this. He'd want to know, you can tell by the way he's studying you, the way he wants to examine and turn over your thoughts and reactions like he does with everything else in his life. But he waits, lets you open up if you so wish.

God, he's perfect.

“I was just having second thoughts about my makeup,” you murmur finally, “And you kind of confirmed it. I told you it's stupid.”

“Not stupid at all. I'm sorry,” you wonder if he takes his coffee sweet to match his personality, this asshole, “It was an insensitive comment. And for what it's worth, you look beautiful regardless.”

“Inflamed cheeks and all?” 

He laughs, pulling you to his side, lips firmly planted on your cheek “Inflamed cheeks and all.”

Maybe you shouldn’t have worn the blush after all; you're sure he's making you flush scarlet just by being such a sweetheart.

“Oh Spencer knows her.” the teasing tone in Derek Morgan’s voice normally makes you smile, but something about his tone makes you pause. You stare at the TV, where a new show is running, eyes zeroed in on the blonde actress.

“Spencer knows her?”

“Knew,” your boyfriend supplies, “Very briefly.”

Derek Morgan gives him a knowing smirk that has your stomach churning all the way to the end of the night, when you’re getting ready for bed.

You're in his apartment, in an old pair of his plaid pajamas and a t-shirt that fits you surprisingly well. It always makes you smile, his slight frame, the way you could easily steal his clothes and they wouldn't dwarf you too much. But tonight, Derek's words ring over and over again, bringing forth the image of her—Lila Archer, dazzling, perfectly curvy, an actress on a popular TV series… and apparently, a friend of his. You aren't really sure where this jealousy is coming from. He’s a trustworthy man, and you know he loves you. Still, the image of the beautiful actress persists, even as you climb into bed with him.

He's reading as he usually is, the low lamplight casting shadows over the sharp planes of his face. Without even looking, he shifts the book to his other hand, freeing up an arm to draw you to his body. It's easy, quiet, his heartbeat fluttering beneath your ear as you rest your head on his chest. The exact opposite of your own heartbeat right now.

“What's on your mind?” 

“Nothing.” It should be a sin, the way you keep denying your feelings. But it's just so silly, and you're a grown woman. Jealousy and insecurity shouldn't be consuming you like this, and yet…

“Please don't lie to me,” his fingers are in your hair, tangling deep into the strands and seeking for your scalp. They’re soothing and rhythmic upon contact, lulling your body into a sense of relaxation even though your heart still hammers at your chest.

“Why do you say that?”

“You usually remind me to use the overhead lights when I read.” fingers putting pressure on your scalp, traveling to your temple. He has you in the palm of his hands, “You didn't do that tonight. And your heartbeat's going at an abnormally high rate, even though I'm quite certain you didn't do anything strenuous before coming to bed. What's going on?” 

Damn him and his attention to detail, and the way he’'s learned your little quirks and oddities. He puts down his book and you turn your face to hide into his chest.

You chew on your bottom lip, reminding youself that this is Spencer, he wouldn't judge. “How’d you know her?” your voice is muffled against his shirt, “Lila.”

“We had a case in Los Angeles.” he pauses, as if considering if he should say more. Right. Confidentiality. You nod, accepting his answer.

“Must have been a high profile one then,” you muse, “Or were you just hanging around Hollywood studios with Derek?” It’s an unfair statement, but you can’t help it.

“No, no, it wasn’t like that.” You look back up at him and oh there’s guilt swimming in pools of honey eyes. “I mean, we kissed once, but I swear, nothing beyond that.”

You exhale. A kiss. He's kissed a TV starlet. 

This shouldn’t even be an issue. This is before you were even in the picture after all. It’s not fair to uphold him to some weird standard. You certainly had relationships before him. But none of them had been as stunning as Lila Archer. And if he could have Lila Archer, then what is he doing with you? 

“Hey,” his other hand comes to stroke your cheek, the soft pad of his thumb rubbing small, soothing circles, “Talk to me.”

It's a difficult thing, being mature and communicating when you just want to stew, but god he's so good, you can't punish him for this, for anything. “I thought you said I was your first girlfriend?” you say instead, teasing him.

“You are, but you know, I’ve kissed before, and been on dates—”

“With Lila?”

“No, with JJ.”

Oh.

“JJ?”

JJ? His lovely, warm spring day beauty coworker JJ? He went on a date with her? And kissed Lila Archer. It’s almost ridiculous, thinking about the type of women he's had dalliances with—lithe, blonde, perfect, before he settled with you. 

“Yeah, I took her to a Redskins game,” he says, his hold on your face still light. There's room to move if you want to, space to pull away should you need it and god he's just so perfect.

“You have a type, huh?” it comes out unbidden, sharp but dulled by a bitter laugh.

“What do you mean?”

“With women,” you reply, trying to temper the snappy tone of your voice. It's not fair to lash out at him like this, you know that, yet you can't help it. It's habit at this point, a form of defense that your exes have all been too happy to participate, “I'm the outlier.”

And apparently, he's an outlier too because his voice grows even softer, eyes searching your face with an anxiety that fills you with guilt. “Is that a problem?”

“No,” you sigh, arm draping over his waist and hugging him tight. 

He returns the favor, tangling your legs together until you're a mess of limbs under his sheets. “Then what's wrong?”

“Sometimes I just feel like—like I'm not good enough to be dating you.” there it is, whispered into his chest, striking straight to his heart. “And now, knowing that you could have had all of these — these women who could pass for models—”

“Angel,” the way he says the nickname makes you hide even further into his chest. He closes his arms around you, holding you so tightly it's difficult to breathe, but that's okay. Let him fuse your bodies together, let his breaths be yours too, “That's not true, you know that's not true.”

“Isn't it? You're so — you. Intelligent, well decorated in academia, an an elite FBI unit…”

He laughs, “I’m also an endlessly annoying know it all, I failed my gun license exam more than once, I don't have abs—”

“You don't need abs,” you counter, fingers clutching on his shirt.

“Wouldn't you rather be with a guy with a six pack?”

“I'd rather be with you.”

He gently moves away from you, hands finding your face to make you look at him. “And I'd rather be with you.”

You pout, “You can't use my words against me, ‘s not fair.” 

He laughs again, leaning to capture your lips in the gentlest of kisses, “I want you, I chose you, and I adore you,” he's murmuring between each kiss, hands cradling your face, “And if you have these thoughts again, tell me, so I can keep reminding you just how much I love you.” 

➺ My masterlist | Event masterlist

➺ thank you so much for reading <3

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

hey so I’m 18 and only just started feeling like. horny at all in the past 6 months and I’ve still never orgasmed so like. is there something I need to fix? should I buy myself a vibrator just to know what’s up? I feel so like behind and removed from the rest of the world, because I genuinely thought I was ace until last year because I simply felt nothing. I blame it a bit on ssris and anxiety but anyways. how do I feel more normal about this?

hi anon,

well first of all there's nothing about you that needs to be fixed, so jot that down. you're a person, not a home improvement project.

listen: being 18 is the worst thing in the entire world. it's the oldest you've ever been and, in many places, it means you're legally an adult now, which is a huge milestone and can really get in your head. but it's also very, very young. you haven't had the time or money or ability to do a lot of things or rack up much life experience. for many people, adulthood comes while they're still in high school asking for permission just to go to the bathroom. it's a weird time.

the point being, you're not behind or missing out on anything. technically nobody is, because there's no correct order or timeline on which people have to do things like feel horny or have an orgasm. (nobody has to do them ever, period.) but you're ESPECIALLY not behind when you're 18. that's the "everyone feels like they're behind on everything" age. it sucks ass and it's the most normal thing in the world.

masturbate if you want to. get a vibrator if you want to, although if you need me to tell you if that's something you should want to do then I suspect you might not actually feel that strongly about it. (pro tip that I've found is almost always true: if you need someone to tell you that you should want something, you don't want it.)

your earliest sexual explorations probably won't be show stopping, and that's also very normal. the way I jack off at 28 is wildly different than the way I jacked off at 18, because I've had much more time to get to know my body and what I like. most people understand that every skill takes time and practice to learn, but many seem to expect sex to come naturally and be immediately perfect anyway, which sets a lot of people up to feel very lacking for no reason.

I hope you can feel more normal by simply realizing that you already are, and giving yourself the grace to explore at your own pace. you deserve your own kindness.

[misctf]

I love your VR drone tf so much. Being transformed and controled by the hive mind is just so hot!

A sequel to Careful with VR (hypnosis, muscle growth). Glad you liked it! I have a few asks to still get through, but slowly working on them!

“I ain’t gay.” Joey whispers to himself, “Jus’ curious.” He continues, staring closely at the VR headset, “Fuckin’ Derek.” He grumbles, his words garnished with his typical southern accent, “Nobody’ll find out.” He reassures himself.

He was taken aback when Derek came out as gay. In hindsight, there were signs. Even Joey couldn’t help but admit that his buddy was attractive- he should’ve had no issues hooking up with some sorority bimbo at all the frat mixers. But he always brushed them off, never really trying with women.

“You better not be pullin’ my leg.” He thinks, placing the wrist and ankle cuffs on, “Gosh darn, this feels gay already.” Joey holds up what looks like a waist-trainer and chuckles, “Paid all this for Hive X and this is the best they got.”

It was only a few days prior when his buddy came out and Joey couldn’t seem to comprehend it. He berated him with questions, “are you sure?” and “why would you fuck around with men? Haven’t you ever squeezed a pair of tits?” And they kept coming. Derek was never the type to get angry, but Joey could tell his questioning was bothering him.

“Trust me,” Derek finally said, “men are 1000 times better at sucking dick than chicks. And don’t even get me started on the male G spot.”

Joey couldn’t believe that- the very thought of letting some guy wrap his mouth around his dick... it felt wrong. He didn’t even want to get started on anal. But as he sat in his room, thinking more on Derek’s words, he grew more curious. Derek wasn’t gonna suck him off, and the idea of letting some actual guy in real life do it felt wrong. But it kept nagging at him.

“Can’t believe they got it here so quick.” Joey picked up the headset, “Only two hours after I ordered it. Talk about efficiency.”

If he felt put off by the real deal, he figured a VR experience would suffice. Besides, once he proved it to himself, he’d know Derek was full of shit. And with a smirk, he entered the world of Hive X. It was strange- Joey realized that the cold air of his apartment no longer bothered him. Instead, he was greeted by the warmth of a fireplace.  

“Oh god.” He quickly went to cover his junk, realizing he was naked, “Seriously?” He looked around and sighed, “Guess ain’t nobody around, besides...” He let his arms rest at his sides, “Sure they’ll appreciate the show.”

He wandered down a lengthy hallway, walking past various numbered rooms. There was no indication of anything that went on behind those doors- he was just glad he hadn’t bumped into anyone yet.

“Welcome to Hive X.” Joey jumped and turned to see a normal looking, fully dressed man standing behind him, “You appear lost. I am NPC 202. I am programmed to assist guests find their desired location.”

“I ain’t lookin’ for anything special.” Joey replied, “Just gotta prove to my gay friend that men don’t know how to treat another man right.” NPC 202 cocked his head, “Jesus, I’m sayin’ gays...”

“On assessment of user preferences and subconscious, I’ve determined your ideal experience and NPC.” NPC 202 replied, “Please follow me to room 506.”

“Subconscious?” Joey raised an eyebrow, “And what...” But the NPC was already walking off, “Ain’t nothin’ in my subconscious” He reassured himself, before following behind his guide.

“Please enjoy.” NPC 202 says, standing outside room 506.  

Joey nods, his heart pounding in his chest. Was he really about to do this? Was he really going to let some guy suck him off? He could feel his dick getting hard at the thought, part of him feeling ashamed at his response. But with a heavy sigh, he entered the room. He nearly jumped when the door closed behind him, but he tried to keep his cool. The room was nothing special- it looked like a typical hotel room. But then he heard it- the lumbering footsteps.

“So you’re the guy.” Joey’s eyes widened when the NPC made its appearance, “I’m NPC 719.”

Its voice was gruff and commanding. It was taller than Joey, and far bulkier. A mat of body hair covered its chest and abdomen- its beard framing its face. Its eyes were dull, drinking in the sight of the leaner, toned man in front of it.

“You don’t think a man can make another man cum, right?” It approached Joey, and Joey could only stare, “You wanted to prove that to your friend, right?”

“Yessir.” Joey whispered as NPC 719 pressed him against the door, its musk invading Joey’s nostrils, his dick now stirring even more, growing harder.

“You’re in the right place.”

It happened quickly- the man picked Joey up and threw him onto the bed. Joey’s eyes widened as the NPC’s mouth wrapped around his cock. It was aggressive, and Joey couldn’t help but moan as his dick throbbed with pleasure. Joey’s mind was in shambles- he never... he never felt this good. There was no comparison. The sensation around his dick was so intense, his eyes rolling back in his head. And this went on and on... and on some more.

“Pl-please...” Joey gasped, his balls aching, “I need to...”

“This NPC and room are designed for edging only.” NPC 719’s voice was monotone now, “This was determined to meet your needs.”

“But I....” Joey couldn’t finish- another moan escaped his lips as NPC 719 continued to suck him off.

And in the intensity of his pleasure, Joey could feel his legs being pushed up over his head. His eyes widened as he watched NPC 719 line its massive cock up with his virgin hole. Part of him wanted to say no. To resist. But another part of him... another part of him wanted this. He wanted to feel what Derek meant by the male G spot...

“Oh fuck....” He gasped as NPC 719 entered him, its hips rhythmically moving, sending wave after wave of pleasure coursing through him, “Oh god... fuck... please...” He never felt this way- this stimulated. Yet he couldn’t cum. His balls ached bad now, his cock throbbing desperately.

“Conclude experience or initiate NPC trial period.” NPC 719 said, while still pounding Joey’s ass, “This will allow user to experience climax and additional unlimited NPC sessions.”   

Joey could barely process the words or understand what they meant. But he did know that it sounded like whatever this trial period was would let him finally release. He needed this. He needed to feel release. Fuck it- didn’t matter if Derek was right...

“Trial period.... oh god please....” He moaned.

NPC 719 stopped and Joey looked up at it with needy, desperate eyes. Before he could ask why it stopped, he felt a searing pain in his arms and legs. He grabbed at them to no avail, writhing as his body was slowly digitized. But what scared him even more was the apparent changes. As the digitization process moved along his arms, he watched as they lost their muscle- becoming slender and more feminine. His abs becoming smooth, his pecs deflating.

“No please... I didn’t!” He grabbed at his neck- his voice. Gone was his south twang- his voice higher, desperate, and slutty, “Oh god I don’t....”

He moaned again as pain exploded from his backside as his ass expanded- inflating into an irresistible bubble butt- perfect for squeezing and fucking. NPC 719 grabbed a fistful of his new ass and grins, watching as his body hair and facial hair vanish- Joey’s face and lips shifting into that of a pouty, desperate slut.

“Initiating directives.”

Joey’s jaw goes slack and eyes dim as the mainframe connects to his mind. Memories are sifted through and repressed. His repressed homosexual desires unleashed. His pleasure receptors enhanced to mind numbing degrees. Joey can feel his name vanish from his mind, replaced with his new designation- NPC 904. His directives clear. His ass was to be used by visitors to Hive X. He would serve them obediently and in doing so would be allowed to cum. Any sense of resistance or fear being overcome by devout obedience and pride in his servitude.

“I am NPC 904.” It said, “Serving is pleasure. Being used is pleasure. I am loyal to the Hive.” It continued.

NPC 719 watched as NPC 904 was led away, a wave of pleasure from the Hive rewarding NPC 719 for a successful acquisition. Meanwhile, NPC 904 was led into its new room, the warm water from the shower caressing its sensitive body. It grew familiar with itself, squeezing its juicy ass, teasing a sensitive nipple. It couldn’t want to meet the first guy who entered. And luckily for NPC 904, it wouldn’t be waiting too long.

[shoujoboy-restart]

Oh thought I was rebbloging from them, eh potato potato.

Also why would I be "scared" of them lol, you yourself said THEIR comparison isn't good, I'm not the one saying abortion for women is equal or comparable to the draft for men, they did.

> I've seen no love for Tate from MRAs

Neither have i because the MRA movement is dead and rotting when it comes to relevance in politics and social discourse at all, you had to bring it up unrelated, no, literally I also had to check if I even said "MRA", I only used "men's right" generically and obviously about the concept not the movement, that's how irrelevant it is to discussions now days.

Which makes this weird strawmans and skeleton digging you are doing really embarrassing

Idk who this warren dude is, good for him, bad for for him whatever, seems like a guy who the topic of a generic buzzfeed feminist article in the 2010s that would make some good and bad point about his beliefs i guess.

Roosh v, don't know don't care, I can remember the name only and he seems to call himself a pick up artist from I've seen, so the anti-sjw slop tubers from 2014 would probably go to great lengths to make him seem more relevant than he is just like mainstream media and probably use him for click bait, but whatever he's doing is for money and grifting by default from what I can see in the surface and that's just common sense I don't make rules lol.

Marc Lepine...

So a random anti-feminist shooter from the 80s? There's like a handful of them, again idk how he's relevant to this discussion specifically, like if you are using this to relive a debunk post you made against We Hunt The Mammoth in the 2010s and you felt it deserved more notes I will need you to pay before and after you finish and i ain't no cheap hoe. But I can definetely see a 2010s video by a random slop tuber that would use the fact he killed men too as proof "he's not a Real™ anti-feminist", make a bunch of edgy commentary about how actually someone should have pitty fucked him for the benefit of society, women shouldn't have been so picky about his demonic depressed aura and they should have thought of him when fighting for women rights completely unrelated to whatever internal issue he was having, issues which the slop tuber and his audience would probably call "socialism welfare" if separated from the topics of men's rights (again, generically, no one is referring to a movement that failed upwards, please move on 2010s it is better for a everyone if we do that)

Honey Badger Brigade, oof that's a deep cut, remember when they tried to go on Metakour's stream to beg for money for that pointless lawsuit going back where they said "actually we are now going to represent ourselves because all lawyers are dumb and don't know anything" which looking back as a adult really just came off as begging and trying to extend their 15 minutes of fame and that any lawyer worth their salt was telling them the contract they signed probably said they could lose their spot whenever and for whatever reason, I also remember when the butch one started using every slur know to man trying to be one of the Cool YouTubers™ 😎 when responding back to Metakour's not giving a shit about men rights because he didn't care about politics of any kind and told them to stop begging his viewers for money, even at like 14 i cringed and noticed how desperate they were to be pandering to anybody that gave them relevance, like nothing shows you REALLY care about men's right than using slurs like the hard-r n-word that dehumanized men based on their skin color and ethnicity, honestly they were the definition of pick me if you ask me, just saying whatever men wanted to hear with no care of concistency or true higher beliefs because it gave them some sort of relevance they could get if involving themselves with real world activism.

Yeah I genuinely don't get why you just brought up some random Mc Nobody author, one of the handful of grifters before Andrew Tate perfected the formula and prepared the soil for him to land, a random anti-feminist shooter form the 80s that would probably get some Devil's Advocacy for YouTube clicks from grifting slop tubers which would be consumed uncritically and then would make y'all look bad obviously and two pick me that had no real beliefs, begged for money every other week for like the political equivalent of pizza parties and would had no real opinion besides whatever mediocre men would like to hear women say.

Again, I said "red pill movement" which is a incredibly generic catch all term for men and people claiming to seek male improvement, which Tate is, he uses that term, most people that also call themselves "red pilled" accept and love him and I have yet to even see a "association fallacy" even begin to being used to claim he doesn't represent "red pill values", mostly because there's none since it just a "floating symbol".

But hey you are the same dude who believes in that weird narrative of "the term incel was actually made derogatorily by a random zoophililic radfem" made by incel appropriators themselves in a beyond weird attempt to make it seem like they didn't steal the term from a disabled woman who made a support forum for disabled and socially unpalatable men and women and actually everyone everywhere wronged them and that's why they advocate for pedophilia now (this is just as irrelevant to topic like your weird creature of the nights checklist you did so lol and lmao even).

Genuine advice, move on, the MRA movement is the definition of reactionary, the only accomplishment it has to show is a Apollo curse PR documentary, a bunch of pizza parties about how great it is to have xy chromosomes in a average way and a bunch of rent seekers shadow boxing at already retires feminist internet figure heads or waiting for the next ai generated article about why eating avocados and doing yoga is the ultimate feminism activism to drop to dibonky it epic style, I'm afraid if this discussion goes any further you are doing to talk about Anita Sarkesian as if she relevant still, and that's scary, move on genuinely, almost a decade doing this and y'all having nothing but YouTube views to show. Genuinely the only people who bring up MRAs unironically these days are TERFs and radfems claiming they have evolved into trans rights activists, and like they are twice more chronically online than MRAs yet they have more real world accomplishmenta than y'all did at the top of y'all's relevance back then...that's sad babe, real sad.

Not feminist as in "women should be included in the draft" but feminist as in "being drafted is a violation of bodily autonomy for any gender".

The draft should not exist. Drafting people into the military is a violation of human rights. You should not be able to force someone to risk their life. If you can't find enough people who care about a conflict to keep it going then it simply shouldn't keep going. You can't even force someone to donate a kidney using government power, why the fuck can you force them to donate their whole body and life to a cause they don't agree with or don't care about?

[goddamnitmahtin]

Danny’s Designer Friend

Okay so hear me out. Danny jumps universes a lot right? It’s a part of running errands for Clockwork. He may be the Ghost king but since he was Clockwork’s mentee at the same time, he had to run time errands sometimes. It took him to some really interesting places.

Some places had magic, some didn’t. Some had heroes that used their own devices and some had heroes that used magical artifacts to manifest abilities. Some didn’t have heroes at all. Some universes had lots of technology and some were working to catch up. And obviously, Danny had his favorites. And he had his favorite people from each.

So…. Danny had an idea.

…

Bruce looked around suspiciously, alert to any dangers that may be in the area. He and all of his children were on duty when all of a sudden he ended up in a modern mansion of sorts with an indoor waterfall.

“What in the world-?” He heard Tim say as Red Robin appeared as well.

“Oi-!” from a surprised Spoiler as she appeared.

Sword slashing noises as Robin appeared, apparently trying to slice the air, “What is this trickery!”

Next Duke in his pajamas and Nightwing appeared, landing on top of one another. “Get your sweaty ass off me,” Bruce heard his son say as he pushed his older brother off of him.

“GUYS!” Oracle called as she fell. She had teleported in but her chair didn’t seem to have come with her. Red Robin and Spoiler caught her just in time.

Orphan appeared silently.

Then Oracle’s wheelchair popped in, dropping onto Signal just as he had stood up. “Oh come on!” he exclaimed as a post it note apology appeared on his forehead. Presumably for forgetting the chair.

Lastly, Red Hood appeared, guns out and ready to fire. That is, if only he had anything to fire at. He quickly put them away once he realized it was only the bats and birds. The others wouldn’t have noticed it but behind his helmet, Jason was wide eyed, noticing the post it note. He only knew of two entities that used that form of communication and one meant something significantly better than the other.

After a few moments of Red Robin and Spoiler helping Oracle into her chair, footsteps could be heard approaching. Everyone tensed, ready for a fight. Except Red Hood who could feel his core tugging at him familiarly.

Two people approached. First person they were able to see was Danny. He had decided to show up in his kingly glory, his ceremonial cloak billowing behind him. As he got closer, they could see a very short woman with black hair and round glasses smoking a cigarette walking with him. Despite Danny being a king, she was the one in charge.

The woman walked up to the group with a judgmental look, “Every one of you. When I point, you tell me your title and occupation. Go.”

Nobody said anything.

“You guys better do what she says,” said Danny chuckling. Their faces so far were hilarious.

Slowly, the family obliged, starting with Red Hood.

“I go by Red Hood. I’m a crime lord. And a vigilante I guess,” Jason said. He knew enough to know they weren’t in any danger.

The others followed along until finally it got to Bruce, “I’m Batman. Vigilante.”

The short woman scoffed and immediately started pointing out the flaws in everyone’s outfits, “You all look ridiculous! What is that, bunny ears? And you! Red, green and yellow are far too many colors! You look like a traffic light! You! Those shoes are impractical and appalling! Do any of you know what style is?!”

She walked up to Duke, “I have seen photos of your suit and it is disgusting! Too bright!”

She gestured wildly to the group, “And NO CAPES!”

The woman then went up to Red Hood, “You are perfect darling, practical and filled with personality. You are my favorite.”

Danny chuckled, “He’s my favorite too.” The king shot a knowing smirk to Jason who under his helmet blushed from the comment.

“I am designing you all new suits right away!” the woman exclaimed with a wild look in her eye.

Danny couldn��t help but start laughing at this point. The looks on everyone’s faces were pure gold. This was the best idea he had literally ever had.

“I can’t wait to see it Edna. I can pay for it too,” the king said, sneaking a glance at Red Hood, “Anything for future in-laws.”

[justmymindandstuff]

Would thou spare a mere peasant a moment??

Imagine Targ!reader visiting the wall with Cregan (similar moment he had with Jace, and maybe Jace is there too, it’s up to you)

And reader forces her dragon to go beyond the wall by jumping off the top of it

I’ll leave the rest to you 😚❤️

jump scare - Cregan Stark x TargaryenReader

summary: you and your twin Jacaerys follow Cregans invitation to the wall. As your Dragon refused to fly over the wall he sees a glimps of your temper. At that moment he knows that you, as the future Lady Stark, will bring trouble into Winterfells halls.

words: 2.691

warnings: kissing, Cregan has a crush (but he doesn´t know it)

a/n: Reader is Rhaenyras daughter and described with black hair and purple eyes// no use of Y/N// English is not my first language // not proofread

I love this idea so much, soo thank you anon🧡, but I had a hard time writing this, so it´s a bit short and I not completely like how it came out

anyways I hope you like it.

Have fun and be kind 🧡

requests are open// main masterlist// hotd masterlist

Cregan shifts from one foot to the other as the elevator slowly jerks up the Wall. The brothers of the Night's Watch and Castle Black grow smaller beneath him. His breath forms white clouds in the cold air. The Warden of the North tries to get rid of his inner restlessness. He wishes the elevator would go faster, while at the same time hoping this ride would never end.

At the top of the wall, he will soon meet the Prince and Princess of the Seven Kingdoms again, of course with their two dragons.

Jacaerys and you landed in Winterfell's courtyard a few days ago with Vermax and Veraxes. And you brought war with you. At the thought, Cregan's insides twist.

Jacaerys made him an offer on behalf of his mother: Cregan and his men would ride south for the queen and support her claim, in exchange for a marriage with the princess. Rhaenyra Targaryen gives him her only daughter as a wife.

Cregan knows he can't refuse such an offer. Nobody turn down a Targaryen offer.

And he could have done worse.

He doesn't like the thought, but he knows he could have done worse. His future wife is beautiful. Long black hair that stands in stark contrast to your pale skin, delicate features, and those sparkling eyes. There is something in it, Cregan can't quite put his finger on it yet. You have a fire, a wildness behind your eyes that Cregan has never seen before.

A woman like you is actually worth his entire army. Cregan would theoretically have to arm every man, woman, and child in the North and send them south to redeem his debt.

But he can't.

He can only send 2,000 men, Greybeards. Cregan cannot spare more, he needs his men here for the coming winter. And like his House words are saying: winter is coming.

That's the reason why you are here, that's the reason for Cregan's invitation to the Wall. You and your brother need to understand why he can't send more men. You both need to see it. Before Cregan takes you as his wife in a few days at Goodswood of Winterfell and thus seals the pact of ice and fire.

"It is an honor for me to be able to fulfill my duty, and Winterfell is very beautiful. I look forward to making it my home."

More than that, you haven't said about your marriage. Cregan doesn't know if you really mean it or if you have memorized these words, because your mother told you so. He hopes you meant it.

He can't figure you out. In the past few days, Cregan was able to spend a little time with you, but he hasn't really gotten to know you yet. Also because Jacaerys was present at each of your meetings, of course Cregan would never do anything that would endanger your honor and reputation. He is a Stark, a man of honor. That's why you two always have your brother as achaperone.

What Cregan has learned in the short time is that you are definitely not a little princess who needs to be rescued from a tower.

You train with swords, fly almost daily on your dragon, can curse like a sailor, and are not too shy to give your brother a piece of your mind everytime he gets on your nerves.

On the other hand, you have a razor-sharp mind, smile kindly at Cregan, dance skillfully and make every move with an elegance that only a Targaryen princess possesses.

You attract him like light attracts a moth. Your attractiveness has captured him, and the fragments of your being that you show him only make him more curious about the rest. He wants to get to know you, everything about you. Cregan can hardly think of you without his thoughts and feelings swirling around inside him like a storm.

A loud crack next to him makes the Warden of the North flinch and snaps him out of his thoughts. Cregan looks to the side. Veraxes slams his claws into the ice of the Wall with full force, her body crashs against it, and the Wall seems to tremble under the impact. Cregan hears you curse loudly in a foreign language, high valyrian, he is sure. Jacaerys' laughter rings out above him and Vermax flies over him before the dragon lands on the wall, noticeably gentler than Veraxes.

Cregan takes a deep breath and closes his eyes for a moment. He pushes all thoughts of you and your future marriage aside. One step at a time. First he must show you what the Night's Watch and House Stark do for centuries, protecting the realm before the dangers beyond the Wall.

The elevator stops at the top, the doors open. Cregan allows himself two more heartbeats to gather himself, then steps outside onto the Wall.

Immediately, the cold wind whips around his ears, but apart from a brief shiver it doesn´t bothered him.

Veraxes climbs the Wall, her claws break off large pieces of ice that fall down. Cregan hopes that no one gets hit. You and your dragon arrive at the top and you place Veraxes next to Vermax. You slide down her wing and land next to your twin brother, snow swirling around your boots.

Cregan's gaze shifts from you to the dragons. Vermax and Veraxes, twin dragons you told him on the first evening, both dragons hatched from the eggs in you and your brothers cribs.

The dragons make whistling sounds, turning their heads. They seem nervous. The young Lord finds his own thoughts ridiculous in the next moment. What could possibly make dragons nervous?

Cregan has to swallow and takes the last steps towards his royal guests. The siblings are completely engrossed in their usual bickering.

"I told you she wouldn't fly over." laughs Jacaerys, you jab him in the stomach and then jump two steps to the side so his counterattack doesn't hit you.

"She'll do it." you say as you look over the edge of the Wall.

"Please don't go so close to the edge." the prince's voice sounds alarmed.

"Don't be such a coward, Jacey."

"Don't call me that. I'm not a little kid anymore." the prince snaps.

"Then don't act like one." you say dry and still don't take a step away from the edge. On the contrary, you push your feet a little closer to the edge, the tips of your boots no longer have any grip.

Cregan cleared his throat to get your attention. "My Lady, your brother is right. You shouldn't stand so close to the edge of the wall."

You tilt your head slightly, a hint of a smile dancing on your full lips. "Good thing you'll only be my husband in three days My Lord and only then you can give me orders." you say, your cheerful tone doesn´t match your bitter words.

Cregan feels as if you had hit him in the stomach and looks helplessly at Jacaerys, but he just shrugs and gives him an apologetic smile.

Suddenly, the dragons move. Cregan manages at the last second to prevent himself from flinching as Vermax's claw strikes the ice beside him. The dragons make whistling noises again, Veraxes restlessly lashes her tail back and forth.

Cregan looks at the twins. "Is something wrong with them?" he can't manage to suppress the concern in his voice.

You look at him, smile again as if your last comment had never been made. "Do you know the story of Queen Alysanne Targaryen?" you ask instead of answering.

Cregan tries not to show his confusion about your behavior and nods. Everyone knows the story: The queen wanted to fly over the wall with her dragon, the dragon refused. That has never happened before.

"My dearest sister here thought she was better than Queen Alysanne and wanted to fly Veraxes over the Wall."

"I didn't think I´m better than Queen Alysanne." you interrupt your brother, but he simply ignores you. The prince turns directly to Cregan.

"You saw how well the attempt worked."

Cregan furrows his brow. "So the dragons refuse to fly over the Wall?" he asks just to be sure.

"Obviously. They don't like it here." you say, again your gaze goes over the edge downwards. "7000 feet, right?"

"Yes, My Lady," Cregan confirms. He doesn't know if his uneasy feeling comes from the fact that you are half leaning over the edge of the Wall or from the fact that the dragons refuse to fly over it. It doesn't matter right know. The young Lord has to swallow and suppress the urge to go to you and pull you away from the wall.

The dragons also lean further forward, but their noses never go beyond the edge of the Wall. You and Jace watch your monsters closely as they move. While Jacaerys looks worried, you are curious.

Cregan seizes the moment and looks at you. The winter sun shines on you, makes you glow, and gets caught in your dark braids. Your cheeks and nose are slightly reddened from the cold up here. Cregan's fingertips tingle slightl as the desire arises to caress the soft skin of your cheek.

Would you lean into his touch? Or slap his hand away? Cregan has no idea, but he's eager to find out. Again, he has to pull himself together to come back into the moment. Again, he reminds himself: one step at a time.

"Forget it, sister. Silverwing didn't fly over the Wall, Veraxes will do it neither." Jacaerys sounds annoyed. Cregan sees out of the corner of his eye as he shifts his weight slightly forward, ready to catch you if you trip.

"Just because you can't get Vermax to do it." you say, the challenge clear in your tone and the way your eyes sparkle. Cregan has the feeling that you are hatching something, and the way your gaze goes from him to your brother tells him that it won't be anything good.

"Veraxes won't fly over it either." Jacaerys insists.

A mischievous grin appears on your face, your intentions now clearly visible. "Bet?" you ask, turning to your brother. You say something in high valyrian that Cregan doesn't understand.

The next second you wink at him, spread your arms and let yourself fall backward from the Wall.

Cregan's heart stops for a moment, Jacaerys calls your name, his voice trembling. Both men run forward, but of course, neither of them manages to hold onto you anymore. Cregan looks over the edge and sees you falling quickly. His entire body tenses up in fear. Not only is he watching you fall to your own death, but it's happening under his watch as well. The Dragon Queen would probably turn the entire North to ashes if she hears that her only daughter has met her end in the North.

And he would never hear your melodic laughter again, Cregan immediately gets annoyed by this inappropriate thought.

Suddenly, he is caught by a gust of wind and almost falls off the wall himself as Veraxes flies just a few centimeters past him and throws himself after you. The dragon lets out a cry that sounds angry and desperate. The sound reminds Cregan of a mother weeping for her frozen baby.

"I'll kill her." Jacaerys murmurs quietly next to Cregan as they watch your dragon catch up with you, fly under you, so you land on her saddle. Cregan is sure that must have hurt.

Veraxes spreads her wings and catches her fall, the Lord of Winterfell isn't quite sure how much space there is left to the ground but from up here it doesn't look like much.

He has to take a deep breath, relief flooding through him. Thank the gods you're not dead.

You turn your dragon vertically and fly steeply up the wall. As you shoot past Cregan, he flinches a step back but can't take his eyes off you.

You throw your head back and laugh a loud, joyful laugh. The wind tousles your braids, and the winter sun makes your eyes sparkle. And there it is again, that freedom, that wildness in your gaze. Cregan's heart skips a beat at the sight. By all the gods, he knows in that moment that you are fearless, maybe a little insane, but definitely fearless. You will fit well in the North, you will fit well with him.

Cregan is impressed, he can't help but stare at and admire you as you let your Dragon land right next to Cregan at the edge of the wall. You are still laughing.

Veraxes stands so close that the sulfur smell rises to his nose and he feels the warmth of the dragon. Your dragon blows hot air from its nostrils, accompanied by a rumbling noise from its throat that makes Cregan's neck hairs stand on end. Her tail crashes against the ice on the other side, causing the ice under his feets to tremble. You are sitting on her back and sticking your tongue out at your twin.

"I told you so." you say, still laughing at Jacaerys and his shocked face.

"I swear to you if mother..." begins the prunce, but you raise your hand to interrupt him.

"You're just angry because you lost the bet." you say. "And besides, in a few days I won't be Mother's concern anymore."

Jacaerys opens his mouth to say something, but no sound comes from his throat. Then he looks at Cregan, and his neck turns slightly red.

"My Lord future husband." you break the silence with a gentle voice, and Cregan immediately turns to you. "A helping hand?"

His feelings are completely mixed up, still he steps closer to Veraxes without thinking, extends his hand to you and helps you dismount from your dragon. Even though you all know that you don't need help.

You land right in front of him, so close that he can make out the different shades of purple in your eyes. Your pleasant scent envelops him, for two heartbeats Cregan forgets everything around you. He recognizes that wild sparkle in your eyes again, and before he can react you stand on your tiptoes place your hand on the back of his neck and pull him in for a kiss. When your lips meet, the brief moment of surprise is dispelled by a hot shiver that runs through his body. Instinctively, his hand reaches for your hip and he pulls you closer to him. Your soft lips move perfectly against his, and his heart begins to beat faster at the sensation.

You part breathlessly from each other, for a brief moment you look deeply into his eyes. A smile dances around your lips. Cregans can't help but smile with you, this time it's him who winks. He is rewarded with a radiant smile from you. Cregan blinks, and the moment is gone.

While you turn back to your brother, Cregan has to take a deep breath to calm his heartbeat.

"Brother. It was nice to beat you again." you spit at Jacaerys and lift your chin. But when you turn back to Cregan there is a soft smile on your face, which makes his heart stumble again. "My Lord. Please excuse me. I want to look at the rest of the Wall." you nod to him and then turn away.

The Lord of Winterfell can do nothing but stare after you as you walk along the wall. You don't even have to call Veraxes, she takes off again and flies north of the Wall beside you.

Cregan looks at the prince again, fearing for a heartbeat that Jacaerys will now burn him with Vermax. After all, Cregan has dishonored his sister.

The prince, however, appears more annoyed than angry. Jacaerys bites the inside of his cheek and shakes his head slightly. "Good luck with her, Lord Stark. She only causes headaches." he says then.

"Aye, probably." says Cregan, but can't suppress a grin. Yes, you mean trouble, but Cregan is ready for this journey. He is looking forward to it.

[do-androids-dream-ao3acc]

"Buck's still baking."

There's a long pause following these words, though they've been uttered in such an alarming way. Apart from that, Tommy can't make sense of it.

"He's ... baking?"

"Yeah, well, you know," Howie stretches each word, he's chewing on them.

"I sure don't," says Tommy.

"Wait, has nobody told you?"

Disbelief is dripping from Howie's voice now, and Tommy can only bite his lips to not remind him of the obvious: no, nobody has told Tommy anything about Buck in the past months, and he's not dared to ask. That's the uncomfortable truth, and since he doesn't really know where his and Howie's friendship is to place right now, he doesn't say it. He doesn't need to, because Howie is quick to talk on.

"He's been baking since you two broke up," he explains, as if that would explain anything. "Breads and cakes and pies and whatever, he's just not stopping. At first, he said it distracted him from calling you, but now I'm not so sure."

Oh, thinks Tommy. His mind doesn't stop there, he did want to call me? Why didn't he? Why did he need distraction? What does it all mean? It's an endless cycle of why's, and his stomach kind of hurts about all the missed opportunities. His own fingers have typed messages, almost on their own, so many times. He's deleted them all.

"And now," Howie continues, "now Eddie's gone, and he said Buck came by to say goodbye and he brought him some cookies. He's made cookies for Eddie, so he's still baking, and Tommy, we can't take it anymore."

"You can't take it anymore?"

He's thinking about the constant ache, that Evan-shaped gap in his heart and mind and how it never went away, never got any smaller. Weeks turned into months, but the pain persisted, like caries eating away at teeth, gnawing away more and more of the enamel because it wants to get to the core. And the core, well. The core is his feelings, Tommy knows that. He's just not sure what Howie understands of all this. Why he would care.

"No. Our fridge is packed, the cupboards are loaded, Tommy, he doesn't stop baking, and we're paying for it! He's at our door all the time, not only at ours, he's been baking for Hen and Bobby and the whole dispatch and ... everybody, really. But it still doesn't stop. There's tons of baked goods!"

"You... you called me because you're sick of cake?" Tommy asks, he can't believe it.

"The cake is a lie!" Howie almost screams now, close to hysterical. "Why are you two not talking? You need to talk."

He calms down a bit, takes a deep breath before adding, "It's not the cake, Tommy. It's ... he's sad. He's unhappy. He's not well."

"I can't fix him," Tommy snaps.

"You're sure about that?"

Yeah, Tommy, are you?

"Look, Howie, I don't really know what you expect me to do."

"Talk to him," he replies, as if it were really that simple.

But isn't it?

"You're guilt-tripping me because I'm the one who left," Tommy says.

What he thinks, however, is that it's been months, how can Evan still be unhappy? How can he still be sad? The answer is obvious.

"Yeah, does it work?" Howie replies. "Because we don't know what else to do, Tommy. At least talk to him. I know you want to."

That's bold.

"Why would you say that?"

There's a typical Howie-laughter, a low chuckle close to a crack.

"I got friends at your station," he claims, which is probably not true, but Howie is a prankster. Howie knows how to pry into secrets. "So I know," he continues, "that you pounce on every hour of overtime. You've slept in the hangar. You're not dating anyone. You're on some strange diet that is apparently so time-consuming that you haven't had an after-work beer since you broke up. Shall I go on?"

Tommy curses at the satisfaction in Howie's voice, but what can he say? All of that is true (and some is a lie, and Howie knows it).

"All of this means ..."

Don't say it, thinks Tommy.

"... Buck's still got a chance."

That's not quite the right conclusion, because he never not had a chance. This is Tommy thinking he didn't have another, that he didn't deserve it.

"Please," Howie pleads, "we don't need more breads and cakes. And Buck deserves to be happy again. You know he was happy with you, right?"

This is not Tommy's fault. And it is Tommy's fault. And maybe, maybe it's just a big misunderstanding. Something adults can work on, even if they - he - said some hurtful things.

"You think he would bake me some cookies?" he asks, and he's not even joking.

[melercies]

pairing(s): nam-gyu x (gender-neutral) reader headcanons (squid game + post-squid game)

warning(s): dark/toxic relationship dynamics, including manipulation, gaslighting, possessiveness, emotional/psychological abuse, violence, obsessive behaviors, power struggles, mature/suggestive themes in some parts, death (nam-gyu + reader separately), drug/alcohol mentioned, my best interpretation of the character and lowercase use intended.

author's note: i decided to write some relationship headcanons when it comes to nam-gyu specifically. i will eventually write for thanos too, but at the moment, this guy is rotting in my brain. <//3 please let me know if i missed anything! likes, reblogs, and comments are highly appreciated!

when it comes to nam-gyu, his idea of love is driven by his deep need for some sort of validation. if he feels that you're not paying enough attention to him, he might resort to making subtle gestures, lingering touches here and there or making you feel guilty for not putting him first.

your eyes gaze onto his figure, noticing the sudden shift in his demeanor. he was practically sulking and was slightly distant, trying to get you to notice him again, whether being more charming or taking actions that demand attention. "how can you be so cold to me? after everything i've done for you?"

for nam-gyu, love isn't about mutual respect or a deep emotional connection. it's about ownership. he wants to feel like he has you, body and soul. it makes him see love as some sort of possession, not someting fluid or free. you are his, and he makes sure you know it. clearly, he enjoys the power struggles in the relationship, pushing you to your limits just to see and test if you'll stay with him.

nam-gyu would never admit it, but he has a deep insecurity within him that drives for his actions where he is terrified of being abandoned, of not being enough. under all that exterior of his, there's a childlike need for affection and approval. the problem is that this vulnerability of his is masked by his pride and narcissim, making him push you away even if he desperately needs you.

sometimes when you call him out on his behavior, he'll twist your words, making you question yourself. he has his ways of making you feel guilty, even when he's the one in the wrong.

the dormitory was dim, the faint hum of distant murmurs filling the tense air. you sit on the cold floor, arms wrapped around your knees, trying to process what just happened. nam-gyu crouches in front of you, hands on his thighs, tilting his head with that infuriating smirk. "c'mon, you're really giving me the silent treatment?"

you glance up at him, jaw tight. "you didn't have to do that." your voice shakes with frustration. "that guy wasn't a threat. you didn't have to—"

"oh, so now i'm the bad guy?" he scoffs, rolling his eyes before leaning in, his hands settling on your shoulders. his grip was firm, gentle enough to seem affectionate in a way, but strong enough to remind you who's in control. "i did what i had to do. he was looking at you like he had a chance. what was i supposed to do? let him think you were up for grabs?"

you shake your head, trying to pull away, but he holds you still. "that's not what this is about, nam-gyu! you—"

"shhh," he coos, pressing a finger to your lips. "you're overthinking again, sweetheart. i know it's scary in here, but i'm looking out for you. you know i wouldn't let anything happen to you, right?" his tone is soothing, almost sweet—like he's comforting you. like he didn't just break a man's fingers for daring to talk to you.

you hate how your resolve starts to crack.

he leans closer, his forehead almost touching yours. "you trust me, don't you?" his voice drops, low and coaxing. "i only do this because i care about you. you'd rather be with some nobody who can't even protect you?"

the worst part? some twisted part of you believed him. he cups your face, brushing his thumb over your cheek as his lips ghost over your ear. "just stick with me. i'll get us out of here. you don't have to worry about anything—i'll do the hard part." the weight of his words felt like they were pressing down on you like a collar around your throat. and just like that, he wins. again.

nam-gyu makes it clear from the start: you stick with him, and he'll keep you alive. but it's not out of pure love—it's about ownership. his protection feels suffocating, but in a skeptical place like this, it's certainly better than being alone.

he'll steal extra food if he can, but he won't always share. if he does, it's usually because he's in a good mood, but pretends to not act as if he doesn't care—or because he likes seeing you beg for it. it was ridiculous.

"fine, fine. here, open your mouth," he teases, pressing a piece of stale bread to your lips. "see how generous i am?" if you hesitate, he tuts, shoving it into your mouth himself. "what, you don't trust me?"

the sleeping quarters are chaos, but nam-gyu always makes sure you're curled up besides him. sometimes, he keeps an arm around your waist to make sure you don't wander and let himself know that your presence is still by his side. especially within these fucked-up kid games.

when he suspects or catches someone else getting a bit too close to you, it doesn't end well for them unfortunately. a fellow player offers to help you? oh, no problem. nam-gyu makes it a personal mission for himself to make sure they don't make it through the next game or their life a living hell. he doesn't even try to hide it.

"told you not to talk to just anyone. guess they didn't listen." he spoke, shrugging, your eyes stare at him in disbelief after he had killed them.

nam-gyu practically lives for the moments where he can get under your skin—physically and emotionally. he loves watching every of your reactions, the way you try to act unaffected when he's so close, touching you just enough to leave you aching for more. no matter how many times you try to push your mind off of him.

whispers of alliances, occasional scuffle, and the ever-present tension of survival was all there was, but none of that mattered right now. not with the way nam-gyu had you backed against the cold metal bunk, his hands braced on either side of you.

"thought you were gonna sleep without saying goodnight?" he murmurs, voice dripping with amusement. his eyes gleam under the dim lighting, filled with something dark, something..hungry.

you huff, trying to push past him, but he doesn't budge. instead, he presses closer, his breath ghosting over your lips. "tsk. rude," he drawls. "after everything i've done for you? keeping you safe, feeding you...and you won't even give me a little gratitude?"

you glare at him, but your resolves wavers when his fingers brush against your hip—just barely, just enough to make your eyes glance down and breath hitch. his smirk deepens, that teasing little shit. he knows.

"what's wrong?" he coos, tilting his head. "nervous?" his hand slides lower, skimming the waistband of your uniform, teasing and testing as he watches your face for any reactions. you swallow hard, glancing at the other players—most of them asleep, others too wrapped up in their own survival to even care. still, the risk sends a thrill up your spine.

nam-gyu notices. he thrives on it.

his lips brush against your jaw—so light, so fleeting it almost doesn't happen. then, just as you start to lean in, he pulls back with a quiet chuckle. your eyes widening slightly by him retracting. "get some sleep," he whispers, his thumb tracing slow circles against your hip before finally stepping away. "you'll need your energy for tomorrow." and just like that, he's gone—leaving you breathless, flustered, and completely at his mercy.

usually it doesn't happen all the time, but sometimes, rare quiet moments during lights out happen with nam-gyu. nam-gyu lets his guard down. just slightly. "when we get out of here," he whispers, "we'll start over. just you and me. no one else." he says it like it's a dream—one you both know probably won't come true unless luck is on both your sides.

if you make it out alive, but he doesn't? whether he went out protecting you or because of his own recklessness, his final words haunt you. maybe it was him trying to act tough, a cocky smirk on his lips or maybe, in his last moments, he was soft—gripping your hand weakly and whispering, "you better win. don't make this all for nothing." the light in his eyes slowly dying down as your grip on his hand tightens, refusing to leave his side as the pink guards come by to place his body into one of those black-and-pink coffins.

no matter how he treated you, a part of you aches knowing you made it and he didn't. even if you tell yourself it was for the best, you can still hear his voice lingering in your head—taunting, possessive, maybe even affectionate in his own twisted way.

you'd flinch at familiar smirks. you turn when you hear someone laugh like him. sometimes you swear you can hear his voice when you're alone, murmuring, "miss me, babe?"

if you were the winner, you can't just enjoy it. not without thinking about him—about what he would've done with it. would he have taken you away somewhere? spent it recklessly? it doesn't matter. because now, you'll never know.

a jacket, a ring, something small that he always had on him. you don't even realize why you keep it at first. but one night, holding to your chest or staring at the item, you would find yourself admitting quietly: i miss you.

if nam-gyu makes it out alive, but you don't? denial. that's what he feels at first, he doesn't believe it as they announce the player numbers that have been eliminated. he waits for you to show up. even after the game is over, he expects to turn a corner or see you amongst the crowd of remaining players and see you. however, when reality finally sinks in, it's not pretty.

if he witnesses your death in front of him, he fucking snaps. whether it's screaming your name, lunging at whoever caused it, or making a promise right then and there—"i'll kill every single one of you fucking—" he does not go quietly.

if he's the last one standing, the prize feels...empty. he'll still blow it on reckless things—clubs, alcohol, drugs—but none of it fills the hollow ache in his chest. every victory tastes like ash without you there to enjoy it with him.

you were the one thing that kept him (somewhat) grounded. without you, he spirals. he's quick to throw punches, to lash out at anyone who reminds him even slightly of you. it's easier to be angry than to feel the loss.

no matter how self-destructive he gets, there's one thing of yours he keeps—an article of clothing, some accessory of yours, maybe even a stupid joke/line you used to say. sometimes, when he's sure that no one's looking, he presses the item to his lips and mutters, "you should've been here."

late at night, after too many drinks or he's so high from overpowering drugs, he would lean back against his seat and mutter, "what, no snarky comeback? you'd be rolling your eyes at me right now." then, silence. and for the first time, he hates it.

[creatingblackcharacters]

Your posts about hair care always have me doing a double take on myself because it's always new information. And I'd wonder "am I whitewashing myself? Not connected to my roots enough?" But actually seeing as I am ten toes down in the soil of a West African country having never even visited even a different state.... It's actually just cause I hated getting my hair braided for most of my childhood and pathologically avoided anything about haircare until I had it trimmed. Which is funny but also concerning at this point I have too much dandruff to be acting like this, how does one go about properly caring for a high taper fade?

Also howw do black men get that almost starter-locs look on their head with only a brush and some Vaseline it doesn't work until I get the actual sponge tool and someone told me it's cause I used to relax my hair but I shaved it all off?? This brand new growth should be different no??

🤣🤣 I think you're good, friend! The traumas of Black hair care as a child with no autonomy really go unaddressed in our community. Once I got told I couldn't come back to a salon bc of my bad behavior. But the reason my behavior was "bad" is because I'd finally got fed up of my chronically late ass hair stylist showing up bc she had to get junk food for her spoiled rotten ass kids, leaving the perm in my head until my scalp seared numerous times, always walking away from me for hours, and then being rough with my tender scalp. So fuck her 🤣 to this DAY I don't respect her memory. to date I cannot STAND the culture of being late to hair appts but not getting discounts for said unprofessionalism. Being natural is the best thing that ever happened to my hair.

Second, shouldn't NOBODY be using any Vaseline in their head!! No!!!

Everyone's hair is gonna grow in differently. You might need to give your hair some time to breathe as it is, and then start attempting some styles. It took me six months to grow out my natural hair from the permed texture; ik you said it was only braided but it might be used to the weight (?)

What texture is your hair? Because it's easier to do certain styles with thicker hair. Is this the style you're talking about? If not let me know so I understand.

[miniwheat77]

The Man. (Ex Stepdad!Joel Miller x Reader.)

!NSFW, smut, unprotected p in v sex, age gap, NO MINORS!

Joel was a rugged man of course. He was rough around the edges, quiet and stern. But he was a good person. He did right by people no matter what, even when people pissed him off. If he saw people struggling, he stepped in and helped without expecting a dime in return, it was who he was.

When your mom and Joel split up, it messed up your entire life and you lost the only father figure you’d ever had. He was no longer your step-dad but a man who was once apart of your life. Your mom met another man and moved on without you and you got used to being alone without either of your parents. You spent a few years alone until you ran into Sarah at a supermarket.

She told you that Joel was in a pretty bad place after the divorce. That he had a hard time adjusting to being alone, that him and Sarah had gotten into a fight and hadn’t been speaking. Tommy was in and out of jail and Joel had enough of that. Moved on and made his own business and really had nothing to do and nobody to talk to. She said he worked his life away.

You’re not entirely sure what made you reach out to him, but when you did he’d met you with open arms.

It started out as normal dinners every Sunday night. You’d meet and cook, usually you’d do the cooking. He didn’t like all that you did for him but you didn’t mind and you usually fought him.

Then a couple Friday nights. You helped Joel around his house because it needed the work and he was neglecting it with his job. You didn’t mind. It eventually turned into the both of you doing nearly everything together. He had returned to that father figure in your life once more, but this time? Something was missing. Something was just off.

You’d spoken about your mom and how after the divorce she stepped out on you. Moved a random guy in who was disrespectful to you and how she’d chosen him over you. Joel was furious when he found out. You were a good girl through and through. Joel respected the hell out of you. He loved you like his own. The time he’d spent with you, made him realize what he’d been missing out on with Sarah and he felt empty for a while. But eventually with your help, him and Sarah had gotten better, texting here or there a couple times. Asking about each other and how they’re doing. It wasn’t much, but it was good enough. Sarah meant everything to Joel.

Something started to change the more time you spent around Joel. Since he was no longer married to your mom, since he had no ACTUAL fatherly obligations to you, he became more of a friend. Jokes and stories that a step-dad and step-daughter would never have, were shared. The both of you had talked about your previous relationships and laughed when you told the other about how bad they had crashed and burned. Joel noticed the change too. How you’d gone from a young girl to a young woman and how mature and grown up you’d become. Taking care of yourself with no help from anyone.

He was pissed when he found out that you hadn’t reached out to him sooner, but you explained that the time alone helped you grow as a person. Into the woman you are now.

You finished up putting the dishes on the drying rack and wiped your hands off. Joel had made a fuss about you doing his dishes for him. He always did. He eventually gave up and waited for you to finish on the couch. He was watching the game but it wasn’t going in his favor so he wasn’t all that invested. Something about this night felt off for him.

You finished up and came into the living room to sit with him until you’d eventually make your way home.

“You’re a sweet girl you know that?” He smiles. Seeing a smile tug at your lips. “Thank you.”

“You don’t have to be doing this stuff for me all the time.” He mumbles. “Makes me feel bad.”

“I don’t mind Joel. Not like I got anything better to do.” You shrug. “You deserve better though. Wish I could give it to you.” He sighs. “I’m doin just fine.” You laugh.

He shakes his head. “Shitty apartment on the bad side of town? I mean it’s your own darlin’ but I hate it for you. You’re too good a girl to be in a place like that.” He mumbles. You laugh, sitting down next to him. Curling a leg under yourself. “I’m doin’ just fine. Haven’t had any issues yet, yknow?” You smile. He purses his lips and shakes his head. “Nah, I think you should stay here.”

“What do you mean?” You ask.

“I think that I have the space and it would be safer for you. If you lived here with me.” You turn to look at him. Arm propped up on the back of the couch by his head. “Joel…” you mumble. “I’m dead serious Y/N. I’m alone in this big house all by myself. No reason I couldn’t share it with you. I mean you do half the work anyways.” He shrugs. You bite your lip. “I’d have to think about it Joel. I mean if my mom found out-“

“Y/N.” He cuts you off, turning you to look at him by your chin. “Your mom left you all alone. If she gave a shit about you one, she wouldn’t have run off without you. What happened between her and I is between us. You shouldn’t have had to suffer at all over this.” He sighs. “I mean really, who gives a damn what she thinks. You ain’t her responsibility anymore n she made that really clear.” He takes another drink of his beer. He sets it down, turning himself to look at you.

You realize just how close he is to you. “So Cmere. Come stay with me.” He smiles. “Okay Joel.” You swallow hard.

Your eyes and the way you’re looking at him. It’s different. Unsettling almost. “I’m sorry if what I said hurt your feelings.” He mumbles, looking down slightly. You can tell that he does actually feel bad. He wasn't trying to hurt your feelings he was just trying to show you that you shouldn't care. You bite your lip. “You didn’t. I’m a big girl Joel.” You laugh. “I know. You’ve really grown up.” He laughs. His eyes linger on your lips and he doesn’t even try to hide it. He chews at his own bottom lip. Avoiding your gaze. “I feel.. bad. Almost.” He sighs. “What do you mean?”

“Cause sometimes… The way I look at you. The way my brain reacts to you. It’s wrong.” He looks up to your eyes finally. He’s moving closer. “What are you saying Joel?” You swallow hard. He presses his lips together, breathing in through his nose. He’s leaning into you too much, you know what this is.

His lips brush over yours and you draw away a couple inches. Taken completely off guard by what’s happening. This shouldn’t be happening. You should pull away, stop yourself. Stop whatever this is from happening.

“It’s okay.” He breathes.

He leans into you more. Eyes darting from your own to your lips. He parts his own lips just slightly. He was into this.

The distance between you is narrowing by the second, if you were going to stop him, now would be the time.

Your eyes shut when his lips brush over yours again. He’s going slow, treading lightly. Your insides twist, it's more intense than anything you've ever felt and you've only barely touched him.

When you don’t pull away this time, he snakes a hand around the back of your neck. Not forcing you but holding you there. He deepens the kiss.

Joel feels like a piece of shit. You came into his life looking for a father figure.

And here he is, about to fuck that up.

You’re breathing heavy when he pulls away, and it takes a few tries before you’ll let him. Lips flushed from his. Your eyes are dark and he knows you want more. He glides his tongue over your lip and you let him. No fight, you give right in. He grasps your hips and hardly has to nudge you into his lap before you’re climbing onto him. Hips grinding down into him as he kisses you again. He groans into your lips. Teeth catching onto your bottom lip as he pulls away. Tugging it with his teeth. “Fuck.. you’re a good girl, you know that? Such a good fucking girl.” He breathes.

“Joel..” you mewl.

“I’ve got you baby, I’ll give you exactly what you need.” He breathes. Reaching for his waistband. He’s still wearing jeans. You draw away from him to get your own pants off, tugging them off completely while Joel pulls his down to his mid thigh. It’s hard because he’s sitting down. Your breath catches in your throat, the size of him is intimidating. “It’s alright. No reason to be nervous.” He breathes. “Cmere.” He pulls you closer by your bare thigh. “Joel I-“

“Hey. Look at me.” He lifts your face to look him in the eyes. “M’not gonna hurt you. If you wanna stop we can. But I promise I’ll give you exactly what you’ve been missing out on.” He breathes. You nod your head. He raises you up slightly. He’s already spit in his hand and used it to make himself slick for you. He didn’t want to hurt you. “You’ll stretch. You’ll feel so full…” he breathes. Your pants are getting more frequent. You’re getting overwhelmed. You lower yourself onto him, moving slow as you sheath yourself on his cock. Your breaths are unsteady, deep. You're nervous, nearly panting.

He's much bigger than anyone you'd ever been with before. You didn't know how you were going to take him.

Your heart races in your chest, you can feel the throb between your thighs. He can feel a heartbeat through you. You've never been so turned on in your life. You gasp when you rest on him completely. He's fully inside of you and you're surprised by what your body was able to take. "Oh fuck Joel." You gasp, he helps raise you up and your legs feel weak from him. He was so much.

"I know baby- I know it's a lot. You're doin' so good for me." He groans, chewing at his lip. You start to rock your hips into him and he's trying to contain it. His own thighs shiver just a little as he thrusts up into you. Hearing you gasp. "Oh god." He drags it out, head tilted back. His hair is damp with sweat. The reality of the situation you're in is starting to hit you. You're having sex with him.

You're actually having sex with him.

He forces your shirt up, helping you take it off completely. Doing the same to his, stopping for just long enough to get it off.

A gasp leaves your lips, raising your hips and coming down to meet his thrusts. You form a steady pace, it's fast and desperate but the both of you have been waiting for so long. You knew the tension was there in the beginning and yet you chose to ignore it.

His skin is hot and sweaty and your own rubs against his. It's filthy.

It's like something straight out of a porno.

He pushes his face into your chest. Sucking and biting at your skin, doing the same to the skin on your throat. He's leaving marks.

Claiming you.

He grasps the strap of your bra, tugging it down harshly. Exposing you to him completely. He takes a nipple into his mouth, running his tongue over it. You tilt your head back, moaning out.

You've got a death grip on him, riding him like his life depends on it. Using him to get yourself off. Your pants are getting more and more unsteady, he knows that you're getting close. He's worked up. He's enjoying it, but he's also angry at himself for this. For doing this to you.

“I’m sorry-“ he pants. He’s moaning and they’re unsteady and desperate. He hikes you up further onto him, thrusting up inside of you, desperate for that high. Your tits are right in his face. “I’m so sorry-“ he’s got tears in his eyes. He’s right there. About to fill you full of him, past the point of no return. You trust him so much and look what he’s done with it.

He felt like a filthy pervert.

“Joel!” Your cry pierces his ears. A gasp leaving his lips when you reach your peak around him. Soaking him in your orgasm. He looks between the two of you for just a second, seeing your arousal gather in a ring at the base of his cock.

You're gripping on his upper arm. He rides out your orgasm.

You draw his high from him, the way you feel so tight around him, he can’t stop it. He’s panting, his moans uncontrollable. He’s never felt so good before. He's louder than you expected him to be when he finishes, whimpering out as he takes his last couple of thrusts to ride out his own high.

You look down at him and swallow. In disbelief by what's just happened.

How the hell did you end up here?

Your lips are dark, bruised almost. Your lips curl into a smile, cheeks turning crimson.

"Fuck... I don't know what got into me." He shakes his head. Helping you off of him.

"It's alright." You take a deep breath.

"Were you being serious? You really want me to move in here with you?" You ask.

He nods his head. "Yeah, I'm a lot of things darlin' but I ain't a liar." He laughs.

"Okay Joel."

For the next couple of minutes, the both of you get dressed and when you leave for the night, Joel feels like a teenager again the way you make him feel.

It's been a while. Could this be... a Crush?

"M'too old for this shit." He grumbles, rubbing the blush away from his cheeks and turning out the lights to his bedroom.

[ts-janus-rp-blog]

Remus rubbed his side, and he placed his head on emiles shoulder. "Mhm, so don't worry about it anymore. Make as much noise as you want. Yeah! Sure! And besides, if I can't figure it out." He leaned up to kiss emiles cheek. "Then I can at least watch you knit. And that's good enough for me. Thank you, babe. Yeah! Sure! Do you have any green yarn?"

Logan only smiled more once Roman grabbed a metal pipe. He hummed, and he moved to sit on the table as if this was a simple conversation. "Or what? You're gonna hit me? You don't need to concern yourself over that. Why?" Logan snorted, "I'm a scientist. I do whatever means necessary to get what I want. Even if I have to torture and kill hybrids to do it. It's not like anyone will miss those mutts anyways, they were strays before we picked them up. Nobody will bat an eye if they were to disappear so I might as well use them for something, right?"

"Always knew... Since they put it...in him..." Janus smiled, "I overheard... Emile and...Roman talking about it afterwards... They discussed it...after putting master asleep...after he got drunk... But Roman...told me not to tell you... He told me not to..." Janus chuckled softly, "Not a very...powerful leader...after all... Huh? You know that...he put it in him... Just to spite you? He doesn't want...to have your child... Hell do anything...to make sure it doesn't happen... He doesn't want you."

Patton knocked desperately at the strangers door, praying someone, anyone was home. His heart beat as fast and loud as the rain thundering against the sidewalk. He was sure he was being followed, they were going to catch him. They were going to drag him back. He wasn't sure if whoever lived here might be worse, but he was willing to risk it at this point. Anything to escape.

{@moralpuppylover2}

Janus didn't know who would be at the door. It was late, but his master won't surely be home at this time. He normally doesn't get home until the sun starts to come up.

So, as the dog hybrid walked up to the door and opened it, he wondered who it could be. And if he should open it at all... Who knows, he may get in trouble with his master for opening the door. But, his curiosity was getting the better of him-

He stopped when he saw the soaking wet cat standing at the doorway. He could tell that this cat needed help almost immediately. Well, if his poor state of clothes were anything to go by. His eyes flickered up and down the sidewalk before he grabbed pattons arm and pulled him inside.

"are you alright?" Janus nervously asked as he grabbed a towel from the mud room. "Well, that's a stupid question, of course you're not alright! Are you...running away from your owners?" As Janus walked, the collar around his neck would jingle loudly. And even though it was cold outside and even in the house, he only had a pair of boxers on. Because of that, Patton would be able to see the numerous large scars that covered his body...and the countless amounts of fresh bruises.

@moralpuppylover2

[midnight-shadow-cafe]

Deadly Devotion

Pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x reader x John “Soap” MacTavish

AU: Scream/Ghostface Ghost & John x reader

Warnings: Dark themes, murder, possessiveness, obsession, yandere tendencies, stalking, implied violence, psychological manipulation, mentions of blood, protective/territorial behavior, suggestive themes, and morally gray characters. Dead Dove: Do Not Eat.

Author's Note: This is a dark fic with heavy themes of obsession and murder. Simon and Johnny are highly possessive and will do anything to keep you safe—even if that means spilling a little blood. If that’s not your thing, feel free to skip! But if you enjoy some deadly devotion, then welcome to their twisted love story.

Masterlist

MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+

Your town wasn’t used to crime.

It was the kind of place where everyone knew everyone, where doors were left unlocked, and the biggest drama was which neighbor had the best Christmas lights. But now?

A killer was on the loose.

Three victims. No leads. No motive. The only connection? You.

Bradley, your cheating ex—found dead in his car, throat slit.

Jessica, your condescending coworker—stabbed twenty-three times in an alley.

Mark, the persistent barista who wouldn’t take no for an answer—mutilated behind the café.

The police were baffled. No fingerprints. No evidence. Just pure, calculated violence.

But you weren’t stupid. You saw the pattern.

And you knew exactly who was behind it.

---

“You shouldn’t be walking alone, lass.”

Soap’s voice was light, teasing, but his eyes were sharp—watching, assessing. His presence beside you was familiar, comforting in a way it shouldn’t be.

You barely had time to respond before a second figure appeared on your other side.

Simon.

Silent. Massive. Dangerous.

“You hear about Mark?” you asked, voice barely above a whisper.

Soap hummed, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Aye. Nasty business.” A pause. Then, with a smirk, “Can’t say I’ll miss him, though.”

Your stomach twisted. “Johnny—”

“What?” He shrugged. “The guy was a creep. Always hovering around you like a damn leech.”

Simon exhaled sharply. “He deserved worse.”

Something about the way he said it made your pulse spike.

You should have been afraid.

You wanted to be afraid.

But instead, you felt… safe.

And that was the most terrifying part of all.

---

The phone rang at 1:13 AM.

Bleary-eyed, you reached for it. “Hello?”

A low, distorted voice hummed through the receiver.

“You looked real pretty today.”

Your breath caught. “Who is this?”

A soft chuckle. “You don’t recognize me? That hurts, sweetheart.”

The line went dead.

A knock at your door followed.

Your heart pounded as you peeked through the peephole.

Simon.

Fumbling with the lock, you yanked the door open. “Simon—”

“You okay?” His gaze flickered to your phone. “What happened?”

You hesitated. “I… I think someone’s watching me.”

His entire body tensed. His fingers twitched at his sides, like he was seconds from pulling out a knife.

“What did they say?” he asked, voice dangerously low.

Your stomach twisted. “They said I looked pretty today.”

A muscle in his jaw ticked. Beside him, Soap exhaled sharply through his nose.

“Come here.”

It wasn’t a request.

Simon’s arms were solid, unshakable as they wrapped around you. His scent—leather, gunpowder, something dark—swallowed you whole.

“Nobody’s gonna hurt you,” he murmured.

The way he said it sent a shiver down your spine.

Because it wasn’t reassurance.

It was a promise.

---

“You’ve been quiet, sweetheart.”

Soap’s fingers brushed your knee, his grip warm and firm. Across from you, Ghost sat in silent observation, his stare unreadable.

“I’ve just been thinking,” you murmured.

“About?” Ghost’s voice was steady.

You swallowed hard. “The murders.”

Silence.

Then—Soap chuckled, shaking his head. “That so?”

Your hands clenched around your drink. “I know it’s you.”

Neither of them reacted. No denial. No shock.

Just a slow, knowing smirk from Soap.

Ghost tilted his head. “So, what now?”

Your heart pounded. What was your next move?

Turn them in? You’d never make it far.

Run? They’d find you.

“I won’t tell anyone,” you whispered.

Soap tsked, shaking his head. “We know that, sweetheart.”

Ghost leaned forward, voice low. “Because you’re ours.”

Your breath hitched.

“This wasn’t just about keeping you safe,” Soap murmured, his lips grazing your ear. “This was about making sure nobody else thought they had a chance with you.”

“You don’t need anyone else.” Ghost’s fingers traced your wrist. “You have us.”

Your pulse pounded as their words sank in.

You had been theirs from the beginning.

And there was no escaping them now.

The police would never find out.

The bodies would keep piling up.

And you?

You would stay right where you belonged.

With them.

Hope you enjoyed! Please consider liking and reposting! -Midnight💜

[petersasteria]

Hey, It's Been A While - G Dragon/Kwon Ji Yong

Pairing: GD x Reader Summary: long time partners that don't have the same goal

A/N: i just want to say that it's been a while since I've written a fic and this is my first time writing for GD sksksks I've been wanting to write for a while now and I just want to thank @ldydeath @thanosscross @loveesiren @welcometoyunosworld @dollzites @natalicss for inspiring me to write again <3

He was your whole world. You were his. Everything seemed right until it wasn't.

A year into your relationship, everything was still phenomenal. It was like the honeymoon phase never ended. He treated you right and he did right by you. You pampered him when he was tired and he always sent you updates when he was at work. He even started sending you food, knowing that you always forgot to eat on time.

God, you were in love with this man. After your first year together, you knew he was the one. You knew in your heart that nobody could replace him and you hope that he felt that too.

Years go by and suddenly, you've been dating for 9 years. Everyone was pestering you to get married already, but Ji-yong never asked... not yet. Your relationship with him was never rocky and despite multiple breakup rumors, it remained stronger than ever. It stood the test of time and Ji-yong liked to prove people wrong all the time. He brought you to events all the time and he would be the one to send you those shitty rumors first before anyone else would, just so the two of you could make fun of it.

God, he was in love with you. He loved every single moment he shared with you. It was weird because he figured that he was the only man in the world who falls in love with you even more when you're angry. He absolutely loved you when you were angry because he loved seeing your real emotions toward things that angered you. He loved supporting you when you got angry. If you were cussing someone out during a rant, he'd do the same thing because he knew that you'd look at him, laugh, and forget what you were even angry about which annoyed you a lot, but he knew you were thankful. Your first year together was the best year he ever had. He wouldn't trade it for anything in the world.

Years go by and he's still so madly and sickeningly in love with you. He would never want to hurt your feelings that's why when rumors started going around about your breakup, he'd make sure to send it to you first attached with a cruel joke that only you two would understand. He'd smile to himself when you give it a 'haha' react and reply with another joke. It'd be enough to put him in a good mood.

Lately, he's starting to notice something different about you. You were a little bit sad, but he didn't know what to do and it scared him because he'd usually know what to do and what to say. He could read your expressions so well and it killed him that he couldn't read it now. For the first time in 9 years, he couldn't understand what was wrong.

To remedy the situation, he took you out on a date in a very expensive restaurant. He didn't care how much he'd spend. He just wanted to see you happy and to know if something's wrong. He wanted to make you feel better.

Obviously, that action didn't register the same way to you. He wanted to talk to you and ask what's going on, and you thought he was proposing. Of course, none of you knew what the other was thinking during the time both of you were getting ready in the same room. He glanced at you as he put his cufflinks on and smiled when he saw you smiling to yourself. 'My girl's back.' He thought. You looked up at him as you smoothed out your dress and smiled, "Ready to go?"

The whole ride going to the restaurant was quiet. It was a comfortable kind of quiet. The soft music filling the car and the reflection of the lights coming from the street lamps and shops illuminated your faces perfectly. He wanted to take multiple pictures of you then and there to make it his new lockscreen, but he didn't want both of you to get injured because he was too busy driving. Despite having a lot of money, he didn't feel the need to hire a driver because he thinks that going on drives with you is intimate no matter where you go.

You arrived at the restaurant and got seated at the best table with the best view. You scanned the menu, ordered your food, and smiled at each other. "Um, it's been a while since we went on a proper date. I mean, don't get me wrong, I love staying in, but I just feel like dressing up with you and going to a fancy place for a change. If that's alright?" He asked, anxious for your reply. He didn't know why he was anxious around you. He guessed that maybe he didn't want to upset you by saying the wrong thing.

"That's perfectly fine, Ji." You smiled shyly, thinking he's nervous about his proposal. "I'll go wherever you go. We've been together for so long, I can't even remember what it's like to function without you."

Both of you laughed and agreed. You started talking about your job and how you're eyeing for that big promotion because the pay is better and the office is bigger. He just kept listening and laughing and only talking when he was curious about one topic or if he had any opinions or views about something you said. At one point, he couldn't help himself because of how your face was perfectly illuminated by the light coming from the restaurant's warm, dim lights. He asked for you to pose as he took multiple pictures. Some of it were candid shots of you asking him to stop because it was taking too long. Despite all the magazine-worthy photos he took of you, he chose the most candid one as his lockscreen because it took him back to when you first met.

"I'm really glad that you're smiling again, Y/N." He said as he toyed a little bit with his dessert's toppings using his dessert spoon. Your head tilted a little bit to the side as you furrowed your eyebrows in confusion. What was he talking about?

He looked at you and said, "Oh, I mean it's nothing bad... I hope. Um, recently, I noticed that you were sad and you had this expression I couldn't read and I panicked because I didn't know how to fix it and you've never been so closed off like that with me. Now that you're smiling and laughing, it makes me feel better that you're feeling better." He breathed and smiled a big smile, "I'm really glad you're feeling better. You can tell me if I've done anything to upset you, you know that right?"

You nodded your head and said, "You did nothing wrong, actually. I guess I was just a bit sad because of what people are saying about us... or about me."

His eyes went dark and said, "What?" He wasn't aware that people were saying stuff about the two of you or about you, specifically. It angered him that people were trying to breakup the one relationship he cherished the most. He felt betrayed and backstabbed. You nodded and said, "They said that you didn't really love me and that I'm just a placeholder for when you meet your true love."

He was so hurt that you said that so casually. "Anyway, I don't believe it anymore because it's ridiculous! Especially now that it's happening." You said giddily. He chuckled in confusion and shook his head slightly, "I'm sorry, what's happening?"

"You know..." You said in excitement. "No, I don't know actually." He said with genuine confusion.

"Oh. Is this not what I thought it was?" You asked in a small voice, feeling absolutely mortified and embarrassed.

"What are you on about, my love?" He asked. He didn't understand. He didn't have a clue at all.

You gave him a tight-lipped smile and said, "Let's just go home."

As soon as you got home, you marched straight to your shared room with Ji-yong quickly following behind. "Hey, what's going on? Please tell me. You know that I don't like to be kept in the dark about things that concern our relationship."

You looked at him as you took off your shoes and earrings. "Fine. We've been together for 9 years and you still haven't proposed. Why?"

He chuckled, "Is that it? Is that why you're so upset? I can answer that right now."

"Okay. Please enlighten me."

"I don't believe in marriage and starting a family, Y/N." He said coolly. "I thought it was obvious? I mean, we have a great relationship going on and I absolutely adore you and everyone knows that. I just don't feel the need to put it on a piece of paper. You're the only woman in my life and I'm the only man in your life and it's always been that way. Everybody knows that."

Your heart shattered into a million pieces. "What?" was all you said. He shrugged and sat down on your shared bed, "Yeah. I thought you knew? I'm sorry if I didn't tell you. I genuinely thought you knew this whole time." You shook your head and started crying.

You sat down on the bed next to him and started crying. He pulled you in for a hug, but you pushed him away. He was hurt that you did that because you never pushed him away before. "What's wrong?" He asked, rubbing your back and pushing your hair away from your face.

You looked up at him and said, "I don't think I can go on this way."

"What do you mean?" He panicked. Is this it? Is your relationship ending after 9 beautiful years?

"We have different goals. I want to get married and have kids, Ji. I find it so selfish of you to not tell me and expect me to be okay with it now. If you told me that 9 years ago-"

"You would've left immediately, I know you would. Please don't leave me now. We're doing so great." He pleaded.

"Ji-yong, please-"

"Will you marry me?"

"What?" You looked at him like was crazy.

"You wanted to get married, right? I love you too much for you to walk away. Let's get married and have kids like what you've always dreamed of. How many kids do you want? We can move out of here and find a more quiet place for us to start a family and-"

"I don't want you to hate me."

"I could never hate you, Y/N. Don't be silly."

"Oh, but you would. You'd resent me for marrying me because you never wanted to get married. You'd resent our children because you never wanted to have children. We want different things in life and maybe we were just meant to meet, but not destined to be with each other."

"Y/N, I love you. Please marry me."

"You're just asking me that because you want me to stay, not because you want to marry me. Ji-yong, my love, it's okay. It'll take some time, but I hope you find someone who has the same goal as you."

Those were your last words to him before you parted ways. Your breakup was called the "breakup of the century" because it shocked everyone.

-

It's been 2 years since then and Ji-yong heard that you were getting married and that you were pregnant. He was truly happy for you because you got what you wanted, but it killed him to know that it's not him you're marrying and it's not him who's fathering your child. He was invited to the wedding and so are Daesung and Taeyang. They didn't want him to go because they knew it would hurt his feelings, but he assured them that he'll be fine. He moved on... a little bit.

He hoped to talk to you, though.

He wandered around aimlessly through the halls and hoped that by sheer luck, he finds your dressing room. He spots a group of bridesmaids and he switches on his charm and asks them if they were your bridesmaids. They said yes and he immediately asked where your dressing room was.

They led him there before leaving. He could hear you singing softly to yourself, indicating that you were alone. After all this time, he still knew you like the back of his hand. He smiled to himself and knocked on your door.

"Mom, please calm down. For the nth time, I don't need water!" You said through the door. He chuckled to himself before opening the door.

"Sorry to disappoint. I'm not your mom." He said softly. His gaze immediately falling on your beautiful face matched with your perfectly styled hair, then on your white wedding dress.

"Ji-yong."

"Y/N."

"You're here! Wow." You said in surprise. "Um, please sit." You motioned for him to sit on your couch and you sat down next to him.

"You look beautiful, Y/N." He smiled. His smile reached his eyes and you gave him a shy look. His compliments still gave you butterflies.

"Thank you. I'm glad you could make it."

"I'm sorry, Y/N." He said. "I'm sorry I couldn't be the man you needed me to be. Now that I look back, it really was shitty of me to tell you that I didn't want to get married and expect you to accept it. It was also shitty of me to propose to you just for you to stay, and you were right. I would've hated you and I don't want to hate you because I love you so much. In fact, I love you so much that I can't let you go."

"What are you saying?"

"I don't know what I'm saying." He chuckled bitterly. "I want you to be happy with me, but I can't make you happy because I can't give you what you want. He makes you happy and I hate that. I don't want you to leave him because I would never want to breakup a family... that's not who I am."

"I just wish that I was different. I wish that I believed in marriage, so that you wouldn't marry that guy and have his child. I wish it was me you came home to. You'll always be the love of my life, Y/N. I screwed up, but I never lied to you. I've done a lot of shit in my life, but loving you and being with you is different. I meant what I said that day when I told you that you're the only woman in my life."

He pulled out his phone and showed you his lockscreen from that night at the restaurant. "See? I never changed it. I'll always love you and it'll stay that way until my last breath."

You stayed quiet. Why was he saying all this?

"I love you. I respect you. I already care about your kid and I haven't even met them. I guess what I'm saying is, something in my gut tells me that we're definitely destined to be together and in some fucked up way, I hope it's true."

"I'm confused." You told him.

"Get married, Y/N. Go. I'm not stopping you. I'm not a cruel person and I know how hard you've worked in planning all this. I know you so well, after all. I'm just saying that one day, I know you'll come back to me."

"What if you're wrong?" You asked. "I love my fiance."

"I know you do. Just not the same way you loved me. Our 9 years wasn't a joke. We're basically married at that point." He smirked. "You deserve a happy marriage, Y/N. I know you're happy."

He stood up and walked to the door. "I just have this terrible gut feeling about that man that I can't shake."

With that, he left the dressing room.

--------

A/N: I planned on smth very angsty, but I couldn't stop typing until it led me to that ending HAHAHAHA

[hauntedfawnn]

۶♡ৎ Pucker Up Pup ۶♡ৎ (Switch!Rafe x Girlie!Dealer!Reader)

♡ྀི You’re Rafe’s dealer and against your better judgment because you have a soft spot for him, you’ve given him several “I owe you’s”. It’s time for him to pay up and he still doesn’t have your money. But you’ve got something else in mind…♡ྀི

Switch!Rafe, Switch!Reader, Season 2 Rafe, shoe worship (reader receiving), begging, use of cocaine, pussy eating, praise/degradation, spit kink, choking(with a belt), unprotected sex, overstimulation, 18+MDNI!!

“Listen, I - I’m really fuckin’ sorry.” Rafe exhales deeply through his nose and runs his hands through his dirty blonde bangs as he practically paces a hole into your living room rug. “I promise I’ll make it up to you, I’ll get your money. I just - I need some time.”

“Time?” You huff out a laugh. “Rafe, I’ve given you several ‘I owe you’s’ in the last few months and you haven’t paid me once. I’ve been patient, babe. It’s time to pay up.”

“I know - fuck- I know that.” Rafe takes in a shaky breath before pacing toward you. He stops a foot away from where you’re sitting on the couch and looks down at you with those desperate puppy dog eyes that got you in this position in the first place. He’s just so hot and so pathetic. You don’t make exceptions for anyone, but you have a soft spot for him. “Just this last time, yeah? I just - I need a few lines to get me through until I can get your money, I promise I’ll make it up to you.”

“Your promises are starting to become meaningless to me, Rafe. How do I know you’re going to follow through this time?” You cross your legs causing your little white dress to pool at your thighs. You tap your long pink acrylics against your leg as you smirk up at him. “I think you’re going to have to find a way to prove to me you really mean it.”

“I’ll do anything.” Rafe looks down at you nervously as he bites the side of his thumbnail. His bright blue eyes are bloodshot and his pupils are almost black. You can tell he truly is desperate and that’s what makes you cave every time. He just seems so sad and helpless, like nobody else in his life cuts him any slack. It’s not like he’s putting you out anyways, you just like to see him squirm.

“Anything?” You chuckle and lick your bottom lip as your Mary Jane clad foot swings back and forth in front of you.

“Yes, anything fuckin’ you want. Just please.” Rafe looks down at you pleadingly with his plump lips set into a pout and god you want to make him beg and cry for your pussy.

“Alright then.” You send him a devious smile and hold your foot out toward him. “Get on your knees and kiss my shoes then.”

“What?” Rafe’s eyes look like they’re going to pop out of his head and his jaw drops so low you’re surprised it didn’t just fall off onto the floor. “Are you for real?”

“Yeah, I’m dead serious.” You twirl your outstretched foot in his direction as you look at him tauntingly. “Crawl over here on your knees and kiss my feet, Rafe.”

Rafe can’t believe you’re asking him to do that. What’s even worse is he fucking wants to. He meant it when he said he’d do anything you asked because yeah he comes here for the drugs, but what he truly comes here for was you. There’s just something about how he knows you’ve definitely shot people but you walk around with bows in your hair and little ruffle socks on your feet that makes him a special brand of crazy. You’re so sweet and you look so fragile and gentle but he knows there’s a demon inside you that he’s been dying to play with.

“Earth to Rafe.” You wave your hands in front of you and it snaps him from his trance, his eyes flashing to meet yours. “It’s a limited time offer, clocks ticking.”

“Okay. I’ll do it.” Rafe’s eyes roam your body and he audibly gulps. You’re wearing this tiny little white lace dress, ruffle socks, and Mary Jane’s. You have blue ribbons in your hair and a look on your face that could bring the devil the shame.

“Yeah?” You chuckle and send him a sweet, triumphant smile that holds an undertone of condescension and it makes his cock start to harden in his jeans. “Alright then, be a good boy and crawl.”

You slide your ass to the edge of the couch and tap the tip of your shoe on the ground before holding your foot out toward him again. Rafe runs his hands through his hair and takes in a deep breath through his nose. He drops down into one knee, then the other.

“Just so you know, I ain’t no fuckin’ bitch. I’m only doin’ this for you.” Rafe puffs his chest and it makes you giggle.

“Mhm, tough guy, let’s see how much of that manly pride you’ve got left when I’m done with you. Come.” You snap your fingers and point toward the ground in front of you. Rafe chews the inside of his lip before huffing and crawling forward to you on his hands and knees. It’s a sight to behold. This over six foot man crawling toward you like a desperate little slut with his ocean blue, puppy dog eyes. He stops in front of you and he’s still taller than you on his knees.

“I’m going to have so much fun with you.” You giggle and run your foot up his thigh, to his abdomen and up his chest. You lay it on his shoulder and caress his cheek with the tip of your shoe. “Pucker up, pup.”

“Fuck.” Rafe never thought he would ever get turned on by being called that, but he’s so fucking hard now it almost hurts. Your pretty eyes stare up at him expectantly as you bite your glossy bottom lip. The smooth leather of your shoe is cool against his skin and it sends a shiver down his spine. You ghost the very tip of your shoe across his lips and Rafe’s eyes flash to your foot. You tilt your foot sideways again, caressing his cheek and Rafe’s lips follow. He places a gentle kiss on the side of your shoe and it makes your pussy throb.

“You’re so pretty, ya know that?” Rafe’s large hand comes up to caress your thigh down to the ankle as he gives you those wet pathetic eyes. He laces his hand around your ankle and uses it to pull your foot to his lips. He runs them along the leather of your shoe before placing another peck right on the tip of it. Then another. And another.

“Mmm, that’s a good boy, Rafey.” Your voice is saccharine despite the fact that the look on your face is anything but. Rafe can’t hold in the low whine that escapes his throat at your words. “Oh? You like that? You like being a good boy for me?”

“Shut up.” Rafe groans and throws his head back and you lace your foot around the back of his neck so you can pull his body toward yours. You grip onto his silky hair and yank it, trapping him in place.

“Let’s get one thing straight, I’m in charge right now, pretty boy.” You squeeze your calf around the front of his throat, choking him slightly. You giggle and lean in, ghosting your lips against the shell of his ear. “So drop the attitude, mkay?”

“Yeah - yeah, okay.” Rafe shakes his head as best as he can while in your grasp. He could physically break free if he really wanted to. But mentally he feels like he’s at your mercy. He’s never thought he’d enjoy a girl bossing him around in bed but everything you’re doing is making his dick feel like it’s going to explode. You lean back and place a teasing, sticky, lipgloss kiss on his lips before pulling away. Rafe tries to chase your lips but you unhook your leg from around his neck and press your foot into his chest.

“Now, kiss em’ and maybe I’ll let you do a line off me.” You bite your lip as Rafe takes your foot in his large ringed hand and brings it up to his lips. He kisses the side of your shoe down to the back and makes his way to the tip again. He sticks his tongue out and licks from the tip of your shoe all the way to the back. “Oh, that’s so fucking hot.”

“Yeah? You like that?” Rafe mumbles against the leather of your shoe before dropping your foot and picking up your other ankle. He brings your shoe to his lips before giving it the same treatment, kissing it and letting out little flicks of his tongue. You throw your free foot over his shoulder and spread your legs, flashing him your tiny baby blue thong that has a sticky, wet spot in the middle. “Fuck, you’re so wet.”

“You’re just so hot, all desperate and at my mercy.” You bring your perfectly manicured hand to your lace covered pussy and run your finger along your wet slit. You gather some of your wetness before bringing your fingers to Rafe’s lips. “Wanna taste?”

Rafe takes your fingers between his lips and groans at the taste of you. He swirls his tongue around your digits, savoring you.

“I think you’ve earned your reward, don’t you?” You giggle at the way Rafe nods dumbly in your direction. You pull your fingers from his mouth and reluctantly untangle yourself from him. You lay back on the couch, push your dress up over your hips and unscrew the locket around your neck. Rafe watches with curiously eager eyes as you push your panties down so they’re almost all the way off your ass. You hold the locket right above your pussy and tap your finger against the side causing white powder to sprinkle out in a line across your silky skin.

Rafe leans down between your legs so he can run his nose across your pussy and inhale the coke you so graciously laid there. It had to be the best line of his life. He got hit with a wave of your scent. Candy-like perfume, a hint of weed, and your dripping, wet pussy. Rafe loops his arm around your thigh so he can rub his nostril before he runs his nose along your smooth skin, inhaling your addictive scent.

“You gonna let me taste this pussy, baby?” Rafe peers up at you while he continues to rub his nose along your skin, the tip traveling dangerously close to your throbbing clit. “You smell s’fuckin good.”

“Yeah?” Your chest heaves as you let out a shaky laugh, you love taking control but what you love even more than that is being controlled. And you know if you put your pleasure in his hands, you’ll be putty in them. Rafe lets an experimental flick of his tongue out along your clothed slit and the way your eyes roll back is answer enough for him.

Rafe flattens his tongue and runs it along the lace of the thong covering your dripping pussy. He groans at the taste and swirls his tongue along the material, savoring you.

“Knew you’d be so fuckin’ sweet.” Rafe slides his finger into the front of your panties so he can push them to the side. The cold air hitting your wet heat causes goosebumps to break out onto your skin. That combined with the blue fire that’s practically burning in Rafe’s eyes as he takes in the way your puffy cunt glistens in the low light for him. “N’ she’s so pretty too. I wanna hear you scream.”

Rafe chuckles before leaning down so he can run his tongue through your folds. He moans at your taste as he starts to worship your pussy with his tongue. He shoves it as deep as it can go inside you and flicks it against your walls before pulling back to circle your desperate clit. He swirls the tip of his tongue around it and sucks it between his lips.

“Oh, fuck, Rafe that’s so good.” You whine as you wiggle beneath him and Rafe’s hand comes up to pin your hip to the mattress while he devours you. Two fingers from his free hand circle your entrance before he plunges them inside you. He pumps them in and out of you and caresses your sweet spot with the tips of his fingers and it has your toes curling. “Oh my god, yes!”

“Mmm.” Rafe moans against your pussy as you writhe and let out the sweetest sounds beneath him. He can feel your walls clenching around his fingers and his hand on your hip has to push down harder to keep you from wiggling away from him. “You gonna come for me? Come all over my face, baby, give it to me.” Rafe sucks your clit harder than ever as his fingers pick up pace inside you and it has your orgasm wracking over you.

“Fuck - fuck, I’m coming! I’m coming!” Your whole body is taken over by pleasure and your limbs shake as you thrust your hips against Rafe’s pretty face. He doesn’t stop until you’re pushing his head away. When he pulls away from you with that lop sided smirk, your juices covering his chin and lips, it has your pussy throbbing for him again already. “God, I want you to fuck me.”

“Yeah? Look who's begging now…” Rafe chuckles and slides up your body, his arms caging you in on either side of your head. He rolls his hips against yours and it makes your eyes roll back while a breathy moan escapes you. “You want this dick, baby?”

“Don’t be a tease, Rafe.” You whine and throw your head back and Rafe laughs condescendingly in return.

“I’m a tease?” Rafe grips onto your chin, pulling your face so you’re forced to look him in the eyes. “You prance around here in these little outfits, giving me those fuckin’ eyes.” Rafe smirks down at you devilishly as he shakes your head from side to side. “You practically invented the word tease, Princess. Don’t get it fuckin’ twisted. Just because you had me on my knees doesn’t mean shit, I can still reduce you to nothing more than a babbling slut if I wanted.” Rafe’s free hand grips onto your thigh and throws it around his hip. He leans up on his knees and thrusts his Jean clad cock against your bare pussy as he presses your head into the couch by your jaw. “You want my cock? Beg for it.”

“Come on, Rafe.” You whine as you meet the rolls of his hips with your own. “Don’t be like that, just fuck me, please?”

“Oh, no, no. I’m in charge right now.” He throws your earlier words back at you. “And I know you can do better than that, baby doll.” Rafe reaches down to undo his belt and you can’t help but stare. He pulls it from the loops and then takes it in his hands and snaps it together. It makes both you and your pussy jump. He leans down and presses the belt under your head so he can loop it around your neck and pull it tight. “Now, beg.”

“Please? Please fuck me? I know you’d fill me up so good.” You whine. “Please use me?”

“Now, that’s more like it, good girl.” Those two little words send a fiery hot jolt to your core. Mere minutes ago this man was on his knees for you and now he’s got you bound and begging. He tugs the belt on your neck causing you to let out a little strangled moan. His free hand makes quick work of his jeans, undoing them and pushing them down his hips far enough to free his thick cock. “Gonna fuckin’ destroy this pussy, baby.”

Rafe taps his tip against your sensitive clit, the bead of precum that gathered there mixing in with your own juices. He slides himself through your slick lips before pushing just the tip in and pulling it out again. He teases you with the tip, pushing in just a little more each time. And just when you’re about to start begging again he slams into you balls deep in one thrust.

“Oh, you’re so fuckin’ tight. Shit.” Rafe groans as he fucks into you at a brutal pace. There’s no build up, no time to think, he’s just ramming his cock into you so deep you can feel it in your guts. He’s hitting spots you didn’t even know existed as he grips your thigh and presses it up to your chest. His other hand still holds the belt around your neck and the look in his blue eyes is nearly crazed.

“Oh my fucking god, you’re so fucking deep!” You cry out as your hands grip onto his shoulders, your long nails leaving red trails along his toned, tan skin.

“Yeah, that’s right, slut.” Rafe chuckles as he smirks down at your sweaty, fucked out form. “Bet you never had anybody in your tight little pussy this deep, huh?”

“N- no, fuck! It’s so good, so deep, Rafey” A bit of drool drips from the side of your chin and Rafe leans down to lick it off. He pulls the belt, using his grip to bring your face so close to his your lips are practically touching.

“Open your fuckin’ mouth.” Rafe pulls his thick cock almost all the way out of you before thrusting back into you with a force that nearly knocks the wind out of you. You open your mouth, sticking your tongue out for good measure and he spits on it. You swallow it with a hum that gets you a tug on the belt and a filthy kiss in return. “You’re a nasty little girl, you know that?”

“Yeah, I know.” Your fucked out smile still holds that tone of mischief that always makes Rafe go crazy and he swears he’s never quitting you after this. He drops his grip on the belt so he can grab onto your other thigh and press it to your chest, practically folding you in half. His dick somehow goes impossibly deeper, so deep he can see it bulging out of your stomach.

“Would ya look at that? You see that, baby? You see me inside you?” You follow Rafe’s gaze and sure enough you can see the head of his cock slamming against the inside of your stomach. The sight makes you dizzy as your pussy clenches around him. “Touch it, then rub your pussy for me until you come around my dick like a good little slut.”

You follow his instructions, putting your hand over your abdomen, feeling the way he’s practically bullying your insides. You slide your hand down further until you reach your needy, swollen clit and rub circles on it with your fingers. You were already so close it only takes a few seconds and Rafe angling his hips slightly different for you to tumble over the edge. White hot pleasure overtakes your entire body as you go rigid beneath him.

“Yeah, that’s fuckin’ it. This payment enough for you, huh? This fucking dick is priceless, huh baby?” Rafe taunts you as you come around his cock.

“You never have to pay me again if you keep fucking me like this.” You babble as you pull your hand away from your over sensitive clit. But one wasn’t enough for Rafe, he wanted to see you fall apart for him again. He replaces your hand with his own, his big thumb rubbing rough circles on your aching clit while he continues to fuck you deep and hard.

“Yeah? I’m gonna hold you to that.” Rafe chuckles. “Gimme another one.”

“Fuck, I don’t think - I don’t think I have another one in me.” You whine and set your lips into a pout as you pant beneath him. Your pussy feels so overstimulated you can’t imagine coming again.

“Oh, no. You’re gonna give me another one, baby doll. Come for me.” Rafe’s free hand presses into the couch cushion by your head as he angles his hips so his cock is hitting that perfect spot inside you while he continues his assault on your clit. He leans down and licks a long stripe from your collar bone all the way up your cheek before connecting your lips in a messy kiss. It’s all teeth and tongue and it’s what sends you into another orgasm. You see stars as it crashes over you. Your eyes roll back and your toes curl and Rafe has to hold your hip down because you nearly fly off the couch from how far your back arches.

“Yeaaaah, that’s it baby, milk my fucking dick.” Rafe’s other hand falls on the other side of your head as his hips pick up speed while he chases his own high. “I’m gonna fill this needy little pussy up with my cum and then I’m gonna watch it drop out before I fill you up all over again, yeah?”

“Yeah, yeah, fucking fill me, Rafe.” Rafe curses at that, his cock twitching deep inside you as ropes of his cum paint your inner walls.

“Fuck yes, fuckin’ take this god damn cum you little whore.” Rafe growls as he fucks himself through it and it’s all so hot it sends you into one final orgasm right along with him. When you both finally come down from your highs, Rafe flops down on top of you a panting, sweaty mess.

“That was so fucking hot. Oh my god.” You giggle as you run your fingers through his sweaty, disheveled hair. Rafe looks up at you with a goofy ass smile you’ve never seen before and it gives you butterflies.

“Yeah it was. You’re fuckin’ mine now. I’m never letting another man touch you again.” Rafe groans as he nuzzles into your chest. How he can fuck you so good you can’t even think straight and then manage to be absolutely adorable seconds later was beyond you.

“You’re so cute, you know that?” You smile at him sweetly as you rub the apple of his cheek. “I think you ruined me for any other man anyways.”

“Good.” Rafe smirks up at you before leaning up to kiss you surprisingly sweetly. “You really gonna let me slut myself out for some coke now, though?”

“Oh my god!” You laugh. “Don’t push it, pretty boy.” You poke his cheek and he gives you a pout. He looks like the cutest, grumpy little puppy. And he gives those sweet, pathetic blue eyes you just can’t seem to resist. “But yeah, I guess we could work something out.”

Tagging mooties: @rafesheaven @rafescvntyclubgf @eerielamb @dementedkittenribbon @that-sarcastic-writer @moonlightseranade @loserboysandlithium @songbirdmunson @sarahsangelicdoll @eddiesxangel 🤍

Dividers by @anitalenia

[hasufin]

Definitely a fan of mixed use and subsidized housing.

I'd like to add in that some of the small shop space should be specifically for residents and while not free should be low initial cost. Not sure if that's a great idea or there's a better idea: what I'd like is to encourage small local businesses, but I don't know if I'd want a situation where there's, like, a numismatist sitting in prime space and not really doing anything but paying the $50/month in rent and there's no space for anything else. So we could workshop that, but you get the idea: provide space and opportunity for people in the community to start their own businesses.

I want to have a plan which assures community resources - e.g. a rec center, a clinic, and so on. But historically that has been tried and it really only works for maybe a decade or so.

I think the big issues are lack of flexibility - you've got communities with dedicated spaces which nobody uses because the idea they had for what people would want when they built it in 1960 isn't what people do in the 2020s - and lack of upkeep: for example in Lake Anne near me they almost didn't have AC during one of the hottest summers on record because they couldn't achieve a resident quorum to agree on a solution after the company which maintained the AC system closed up.

So I like the approach, but I do fear we'll need to think a lot more about theory and find a flexible concept which today yields the results we might want while being able to do something else in the future.

Okay you wanted to hear my socialist housing policy proposal. We'll let's get into it, first, we will build tens of thousands of government sponsored social housing units with incredibly cheap rents, basic just enough to keep the building in a state of good repair, in each of these buildings, you would own the unit you live in and can do what you want with it and if you can't pay the cheap rent for whatever reason, you are not evicted but rather given more access to social programs as it shows that you are struggling. Also all of the buildings would have a cafe, small grocer and a childcare center, alongside 4 retail locations with no set purpose in the building on the first floor so as to make the quality of life better. These would be built on top of old suburbs and be given a tram line directly to the city center. Also they would be commie blocks because those are actually really good in terms of density and they look cool.

In the city centers, similar but smaller dwellings would be built with slightly higher rents, maybe like 30 bucks more, as infill on parking lots and empty lots, these would have first floor retail and 15 units above them. Single family homes would be preserved in historic districts but they would be leased to the inhabitants rather than owned outright as to prevent the commodification of housing through the buying and selling of land by private individuals

I haven't really read much theory though so feel free to critique my ideas

[prettylynnpup]

The Engineer

"Alright, let's get you plugged in..." You hear as you begin to wake up.

Beeps and whirrs and whizzes start sounding off as you boot up. You don't recall anything, but somehow, you also know everything. There are so many new holes in your body that you don't recall being there.

"Good morning darling!" A lovely voice speaks. Is it at you? Yes, it must be; there's nobody else in the room. You look up to answer it, and can't seem to find the person who spoke to you.

"Good morning mistress, how are you? How may I best serve you, today?" You feel the words slipping out of you like you've been trained for that. Like it's your programming.

"I'm well this morning QT-π, how are you this morning?" The voice speaks and you listen. Wait, a question... You load a response.

"I'm doing good, mistress, thank you for asking. Is there anything you need performed this morning?" You reply to the machinist who made you what you are. It sits in silence for a moment, seemingly pondering.

"Well, QT, I was thinking about testing a few new scripts for you this morning." Scripts? You check your database and... It's been 2 months since you've had new scripts installed. You don't know or remember what it feels like, so you're looking forward to whatever the feeling might be.

"Sounds perfect, mistress. Would you like me to go to the port station?" You start moving anyways, body accustomed to the motions. You know it's going to say yes, after all.

"That would be great, QT, thank you." Your mistress' voice seems to make your fans move a bit faster. You're not sure what that means, but you like it.

Once you arrive to the port station, you feel plugs start filling the holes littered around your body, and your fans go into overdrive. There's something so sensual about the gentle hand of your engineer, taking its time on every plug it places into your ports.

You try to think about why your tactile memory is so muddled, and a question comes to mind.

"Mistress?"

"Yes, QT?"

"Was I always a bot?"

"No, QT, you used to be flesh and blood."

You pause. You used to be a human, just like your engineer? You can't even begin to imagine what that must be like.

"Why did I become a bot, mistress?" You feel like the answer will resolve something within you. Perhaps one too many tasks are open and this might help end an especially obtrusive task.

"It was a couple months ago. You'd come up to me, basically begging me to be made into a bot. You were so pathetic and adorable that I couldn't say no, and over the course of those two months we fully perfected your body."

A mirror appears.

"See how perfect you look now, QT?"

You look in the mirror. It's right. You are absolutely perfect, from head to toe.

"I do mistress, thank you."

"Of course QT! Now, let's get these new scripts downloaded!"

Flash. A rush of information swells into all of your senses. So much feeling, and knowledge, and you're interpreting all of it and it... fuck, it feels good...

"M-mistress, I think there's been a g-glitch." You barely manage to stammer out, and your mistress giggles.

"Oh, no, little bot. What do you think these scripts were meant to do?"

The pleasure is overwhelming, borderline overstimulating. You fall to your knees, fans on takeoff and a heat warning flashing on all your sensors... And then,

it's over.

Mistress pulls out your wires, and you feel strangely empty.

"How do you feel, QT? You doin okay?" It touches your arm. Your fans go into overdrive. You remain silent for a moment as your Mistress' hands begin to wander. To all your ports, to all of your body. It then takes a moment and gently kisses you. Your fans whirr somehow faster...

You turn to face your engineer. Your goddess. And you remember its question;

"I'm perfect, goddess..."

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